


Shape Of You

by madlaw



Series: All About The Music [3]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheesy playlist, Dr. Shaw, F/F, Guest Appearance by Craft Beers, Gunshots and Blood, Hacking, Lesbian Sex, Lots of Sex, Root and Shaw are strangers, Shaw loves food and Root can cook!, Strangers Meet At A Bar, Trouble, Wannabe Assasin, World's Most Mediocre Pick-Up Line, falling in love?, instant chemistry, one-night stand?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10049096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlaw/pseuds/madlaw
Summary: Root and Shaw meet at a bar.  There's instant chemistry and they go home together for what seems destined to be a one-night stand.  But things get complicated, Root's seriously injured, and Shaw has an important decision to make.





	1. The Hookup

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clue how my original idea for a 'short' one-off evolved into this...but here we are. The best laid plans of mice and men and all that. It was basically supposed to be sex...a lot of sex in a very short period of time. Instead now we have a plot too. 
> 
> Feed the author!
> 
> Title and lyrics from Shape of You by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> Fan Art "Dressed to Kill" by ShadowKira.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw runs her fingers down Root’s spine, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between them and she can feel the beating of Root’s heart against her chest. They come up for air and she rests her head on Root’s shoulder. She almost misses it when Root whispers. “No one’s ever kissed me the way you do.” The minute she says it she knows it’s the night’s most intimate moment. Shaw stiffens.
> 
> Root starts to pull away guessing it was a little too raw and honest for Shaw. But although Shaw loosens her grip, she doesn’t let her go. “Then they were doing it wrong.” Root’s smile is blinding and Shaw laughs out loud, uninhibited and genuine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself I wouldn't, that I would leave it alone, but I just couldn't! I'm sooo sorry. I completely rewrote this chapter. The same things happen with the same basic result but in a totally different way. You'll still be able to enjoy without going back so don't worry. I promise I will never do it again! Thanks for your patience and your continued support.
> 
> Updated 3/9/2017

_I'm in love with the shape of you_  
_We push and pull like a magnet do_  
_Although my heart is falling too_  
_I'm in love with your body_  
_And last night you were in my room_  
_And now my bed sheets smell like you_

 

 

 

The bar’s not a trendy hot spot and attracts mostly a middle-aged crowd looking to have a few drinks after work.  It’s crowded enough to keep the bartender busy hustling end to end, nimble hands crafting cocktails and pulling beers, but not so crowded a walk to the bathroom feels like dirty dancing.

It’s getting late and Shaw, Zoe, and Joss have been slamming shots for a couple of hours.  They come here when they just want to relax and not spend the night fending off strangers with bad pick-up lines.

_If you were a Transformer, you'd be Optimus Fine._

_Are you a campfire?  Cause you're hot and I want s'more._

_Hey girl, is your name wi-fi?  Because I feel our connection._

After a couple of shots Zoe manages to browbeat them into her latest drinking game.  The person with the best ‘worst pick-up line’ wins and the other two slam another shot back.  Joss and Zoe are laughing loud enough to drown the music and Shaw knows another shot will have one or both of them praying to the porcelain god.  So she calls it a tie and cuts them off.  “ **No** Zoe, I will not give you a lap dance.” 

Driving and walking are no longer an option for the two and they decide to call it a night before they make questionable life choices.  Shaw’s not feeling any pain but relatively coherent.  She decides to stay for another beer after calling a cab for ‘double trouble’ a nickname only voiced in the confines of her mind. 

Zoe catches her heal on the foot rail of the bar and stumbles.  Shaw rolls her eyes in feigned annoyance but still makes sure they get in the cab.  After a lot of giggling (by them) and a lot of pushing (by Shaw) she manages to slam the door shut.  She makes sure the driver knows the address otherwise she’ll be playing operator all night.

Root’s been coding for five hours straight but there’s still a line of code eluding her.  She decides to go for a walk instead of throwing her laptop out the window.  She drifts into the bar because she’s walking by when she decides she needs a drink.  Someone opens the door on their way out and she hears a shot glass slam down on the bar.  Sold.

The unyielding hard wood of the stool elicits a murmured curse, but it didn’t take offense. She orders a shot of tequila and the zing of the lime and the bracing burn of the alcohol pouring down her throat emphatically remind her why she prefers wine.  But the full, rich sound of the music soothes her and she turns her head to take a peek at the small dance floor.  A lanky guy with a boyish smile is obviously trying to score while the object of his dubious affection yawns.

Root smirks and decides to order a beer and enjoy the entertainment.  The bartender brings her a draft and she spins the cardboard coaster lazily while she picks at a bowl of salty pretzels.  The yeasty taste of a mouthful of beer convinces her she’s done drinking tonight.

She feels a draft and glances towards the door.  She can’t see the woman entering clearly over the heads of the other people sitting at the bar until she perches on the brass rail and leans in to get the bartender’s attention.  A mirrored wall behind the bar reflects her face, tinted red from the neon signs.

Root starts to turn away but she’s captivated by the woman’s lips flashing a confident smile.  Someone on the bar stool next to the stranger gets up and their eyes meet briefly as she glances over.  Now Root’s intrigued.  In her fleeting look, the stranger’s deep dark eyes flickered with a cynical knowledge Root’s only seen in the mirror.  Maybe tonight won’t be a total loss after all. 

She tells the bartender to put Shaw’s drink on her tab.  When she tries to pay he points at Root and she raises her glass in Root’s direction and smirks.  Root’s not discouraged in the least.  Her offer wasn’t rebuffed and the cocky smile thrown her way tells her she might get lucky tonight.

Before she decides her next move, Shaw’s at her side leaning on the counter.  “Thanks for the drink.”  Root’s dancing eyes and quirked lips clearly convey her interest.  “You’re welcome.  Your smile’s been the best part of my night.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  “It’s not the worst line I’ve heard tonight.”

She’s wearing a black button down shirt, although most of the buttons are not in use and her dark blue jeans are painted on, accenting an ass Root would love to run her tongue over.  Her exotic skin reminds Root of sun kissed oranges and if she’d been the religious type she’d pray she’ll get to take a bite. 

Things are definitely looking up.  Root feels the press of the sticky counter against her elbow as she leans in and deliberately rests her knee against Shaw’s thigh.  She smiles innocently and cocks her head.

“You came to me.  Does that mean you’re trying to pick me up?”  Shaw rakes Root’s body with her eyes.  “I wouldn’t rule it out.  But let’s not talk too much.”  She grasps Root’s wrist and pulls her out onto the small dance floor.

Kisses Down Low by Kelly Rowland starts playing and Root thinks the universe is finally on her side.  Before she can think they’re dancing intimately, hands resting on her waist, hypnotic eyes daring her to look away.  Her arms hang loosely as she moves to the rhythm of the music and she shivers as she feels skillful fingers tracing from the side of her breast to her thigh, Shaw’s hips swaying decadently.

Shaw’s enveloped in Root’s scent and she inhales deeply, something about her fragrance calling to her viscerally; but she quickly realizes it’s not perfume.  It’s the smell of Root's pale skin, clean like lemons and sweet like apples. 

Root’s long hair frames her angular face and chiseled cheekbones.  She’s wearing light makeup, her eyes smoky and her lips red, and she has the clearest brown eyes Shaw’s ever seen.  Shaw’s also admiring legs that go on forever, imagining the feel of them wrapped around her body as the stunning stranger arches under her…

Root’s wearing a coy smile, body vibrating to the beat as guarded eyes study her.  She wants to experience everything they’re hiding. She captures Shaw’s lips with her mouth, licking lightly and tugging gently.  Her mind catches up to her body and she wonders if she’s about to be punched. Somehow she knows the smaller woman is more of a punching versus slapping-type person.  But then she feels soft lips moving knowingly against her own and a warm tongue snakes its way deliciously into her mouth.

Shaw always goes with her gut and right now her gut is telling her she wants to spend the night hearing the different ways she can make the taller woman moan.  Just as she’s about to suggest they get out of here, she feels warm breath on her neck and a scintillating whisper in her ear.  “ _Come home with me._ ”

Shaw doesn’t need to be asked twice.  She doesn’t remember the walk, but she remembers being pushed up against a brick wall and a hot, deep kiss, a leg between her thigh, probing hands caressing her back, her mind spinning and her body on fire.

 

* * *

 

They stumble down the hallway leading to Root’s door, groping each other until muffled voices around the corner remind them they’re not alone just in time to avoid becoming masturbation fodder for a hormonal teenager. 

Shaw’s firm breasts press against Root’s back as she desperately struggles to open the door.  She finally manages to focus long enough to find the keyhole and they stumble into her apartment.  Shaw reigns in her libido long enough to run a perceptive eye over the unfamiliar space, but no red flags are thrown by her instincts and play resumes.  Shoes are kicked off and clothes sent flying in a fevered frenzy.

They’re gasping into each other’s mouths, when Shaw leans back.  “Sameen.”  Root’s look says ‘do we really have to talk about this now.’

“That’s the name you’ll be moaning all night.”  Root smiles wickedly and she catches her breathe long enough to throw down a challenge.  “We’ll see who’ll be doing the most moaning, but I’m not a sore loser.  You can call me Root.”  Shaw’s gloating smile says she loves games and she always wins, but Root knows it’s a win/win just as she intended.

She pushes Shaw against the door and even Shaw’s lightening quick reflexes can’t keep up with the skilled hands sensually assaulting her.  Root uses her full body, her full tall body, to pull Shaw jaggedly from the contoured door and push her backwards into the smooth wall.  

She runs her hands down the curvy ass she’s been fantasizing about and pulls Shaw closer.  Shaw moans and Root smiles against her mouth.  How a smile can feel smug, she’s not sure, but everything about Root’s hands on her skin feels absolutely fantastic so she can have her smug smile as long as she keeps her hands on Shaw’s body.

Root runs her finger down Shaw’s dripping center not stopping at the base of her sex.  She spreads the evidence of Shaw’s arousal around her tight ring and Shaw pushes back into her hand fervently giving Root eager permission.  Root presses slowly until her crooked finger slides in to the first knuckle and hits Shaw’s g-spot.  She rubs gently with a ‘come hither’ motion setting an unhurried rhythm, while her free hand teases Shaw’s clit, never quite touching where she needs it most.

Lighting builds deep inside Shaw and courses up her spine and coils through her body giving her chills and it feels _sooo_ right…then Root steals inside her swollen slit with three fingers and for a second Shaw feels a little dizzy and weak, and her ears throb with the sound of Root’s gentle grunts and panting breaths against her shuddering neck…but when Root starts fucking her with smooth strokes the combination throws her entire body clear over the edge and a violent pleasure tears through her, but it lasts for minutes and grows deep inside her in shuddering cracks, conducted by the rhythm of Root’s dexterous fingers and powerful hands. 

It peaks inside her clenching ass and pussy and pulsing clit _over and over_ until Root catches it and _pulls…pulls_ _every_ thread of pleasure down her legs and into her toes _suffusing, carrying, lifting_ Shaw until she comes…and Root holds her close as her body jerks and arches into Root’s flexing arms.

Root’s flushed skin absorbs the memory of Shaw’s inarticulate guttural moans and growls.  It wasn’t her name but it was genuine and raw and powerfully moving; Root intends to hoard it greedily.

She butterfly kisses and strokes all the skin she can reach soothingly while Shaw recovers.  Shaw’s never let anyone cuddle her in any fashion, but she doesn’t pull away or tell her to stop.  Root’s given her not only the most forceful orgasm she’s ever experienced but also created the ability to feel something clearly.  She’s not sure what it is exactly but it doesn't suck.

When she finally regains her equilibrium, Root’s smile beams down at her from puffy lips and radiant eyes.  Shaw’s prepared for gloating or a smug look, but Root’s unguarded gaze conveys the exact opposite emotion.  It’s a message but Shaw’s not sure what it means. 

 

* * *

 

“Shower?”

Root stops to start a playlist and light a candle.  The speakers are placed discreetly all over the apartment and she knows it’s corny but the first song is Let’s Get It On Tonite.  Shaw rolls her eyes and wriggles her eyebrows and Root thinks it’s the most endearing thing she’s ever seen.  “You can check that off the list.”  Root smirks.  "There are 33 more songs."           

Momentarily Shaw believes she’s somewhere else like a spa, the spacious room confirming the illusion with its indulgent luxuries.  She spots the steam shower with multiple massage jets and decides she’s not opposed to some pampering.  She forgets Root for a second and steps in, immediately setting the water to scalding and the jets on high. 

But she hears Root wince when the first hot drop hits her skin and she reaches for the temperature control.  “Sweetie, how about we bring it down to blistering before I faint from heat exhaustion and our night suffers an untimely death?”  Shaw bites her lower lip but can’t hide her sheepish grin.     

She almost moans when the massaging water soothes her tight muscles, but she holds it back at the last minute.  She’s moaned enough for now.  Root’s lathering her hair and she gets her first real look at Root's naked body.  Her lean body radiates strength and confidence as manicured hands massage her scalp, shampooing her long hair.  Her toned endless legs flex as she arches back to finish rinsing and her breasts, made for Shaw’s mouth, arch forward temptingly.

She’s so enthralled she doesn’t notice Root’s eyes open.  “Like what you see?”

Shaw shakes her head in mock denial but can’t help the lusty smile that comes unbidden to her lips.  She looks into Root’s laughing eyes.  She never knew eyes could laugh.  “Oh yeah.  You’re fucking _**hot**_.”

Shaw drops to her knees and runs her tongue over Root’s taut thighs.  She looks up at Root through dark lashes and Root stares down into deep pools of desire.  She’s never seen anything hotter than this enigmatic stranger on her knees exploring her body with her mouth, the shower raining over them.  By the time Shaw meanders to her sex, Root’s consumed with an absolute craving.

She's overcome by the heat of the fuse that ignites inside her when Shaw gives a long, deep, slow lick to her sex.  ‘ _Sameen_ ’  Unconsciously she leans against the slick tiles, although they’d more likely hasten her collapse.  Shaw’s lungs reflexively suck the steamy air imbued with Root’s arousal and her lips twitch with a knowing smile.  Root can’t remember seeing anything sexier. 

Root’s never swooned for anyone or anything, but if she were going to start this would be the time.  She feels Shaw’s hot breath as she envelops Root's clit and circles her tongue deliciously, her arms wrapped around Root’s thighs, massaging her ass.  She works her over expertly, bringing her to the edge and then easing her back until Root’s begging and slapping the tiles, arching her body into Shaw’s extorting mouth.  ‘ _Sameen please please let me come_’ 

Shaw starts sucking faintly with a promise of what’s to come; teasing Root’s clit out from under its hood and Root feels her orgasm storming towards her like an avalanche.  Shaw slips her fingers inside and suddenly she’s _falling, falling, falling_ over the steep slope and then she’s _exploding_ , her hand tangled in Shaw’s hair holding her tightly in place.  Shaw can feel Root’s entire body trembling and she gentles her through the orgasm until Root’s tremors fade. 

She leans on Root while the circulation returns to her legs and Root wraps her arms around her.  But it’s not cuddling.  It’s medical assistance.  But Shaw doesn’t push away for several long minutes.   It doesn’t suck and why deny herself something she wants just because she’s never wanted it before.

“Sameen, that was…incredible.  I think I went numb.”

Shaw quirks her eyebrows and upturns the corner of her lower lip like she knows exactly how seductive a lover she is.  “I aim to please.”  Usually by this time she’s at the door.  Instead they finish their shower amidst grabby hands and greedy tongues. 

 

* * *

 

The only light filters through the windows from the street and there’s a distant cacophony, the sounds of the city, vibrant and alive at all hours, but they’re not listening.  They don’t notice Root’s enticing bed and creamy sheets with a thread count higher than minutes in a day.  They just know they slot together seamlessly. 

Shaw captures Root’s lips sensually, every sense drunk with Root.  She feels her breath catch and Root can see her pupils dilate with unexpected warmth but she instinctively knows Shaw will shut down if she hears it aloud.  “You taste like apples.”  Root's eyes twinkle with mischief.  “Well, then I _really really_ hope you like apples.” 

“ _Oh yeah_.”  Shaw captures Root's mouth and explores undiscovered territory.  Root feels _pursued_ and _desired_ viscerally in the best way.  She never knew a look or a touch could convey so much.

Shaw has said exactly 62 words to her so far tonight, including the bar and sexual exclamations.  Considering the average woman speaks 833 words per hour (roughly 20,000 per day) and they’ve been together 150 minutes give or take, she’s 19,930 below the average.  But with those .01% of words and 100% of her actions she’s made Root feel _real and connected_ for the only time in her life. 

She couldn’t care less about the numbers.  But she’s already absolutely addicted to the _feelings_.  She knows she won’t be able to keep them for long, maybe not even past tonight, but she's imprinted to Shaw nonetheless.

Shaw slips her tongue into Root’s mouth teasingly and runs her fingers through Root’s sex-mussed hair.  But what unexpectedly shocks Shaw and leaves her with an unpleasant heaviness in the pit of her stomach is the sight of her hand caressing Root’s cheek with the back side of her palm.

She’s struck with a sudden overwhelming compulsion to leave.  Root senses the change.  Shaw’s eyes are shut tight and she’s trying to regulate her breathing like a marathon runner before the race and her fist is clenched.    

Root exhales like she’s trying to push every last molecule out of her lungs and surrenders to the knowledge of Shaw’s imminent departure, because from what little she’s learned about Shaw in the last few hours, Root suspects Shaw abhors intimacy.  

It’s _almost_ funny how the little things have the power to alter anyone’s reality.  Assign the wrong value to a bit in a code and it means jail instead of infamy. 

Fuck all night and penetrate each other’s bodies in any way imaginable and Shaw’s reality is a hot, maybe even unforgettable, one-night stand.  But a caress lasts two seconds and it morphs into a life choice she will never allow herself to make.

But Shaw doesn’t move and Root tentatively touches her shoulder, not to ask her to stay but to convey she understands.  She feels the tension coiled within Shaw like a hairspring in a pocket watch.  The danger’s palpable.

People say religion is the opiate of the masses but Shaw knows its pop music.  It propagates a mythical life n…  In the midst of this utterly useless thought it occurs to Shaw the tightness flowed out from her muscles, she’s breathing calmly, and her flight or fight response must be taking a nap.

She feels Root’s warm hand on her shoulder like the first few seconds after a dram of good scotch, it burns a little going down but then smooths out to pleasant and dramatic warmth radiating through her body.  She opens her eyes and Root’s biting her lip and staring at her not with sympathy or pity, just understanding and acceptance, like her only concern is Shaw’s well-being.

Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head but her smile is genuine.  “Don’t ever play poker with me, I can read everything in your eyes.”

“Only because I’m not trying to hide sweetie.”  She whacks Shaw over the head with a pillow, sucking the tension out of the room.  Her tone is light and playful but her words are probably the truest thing she’s ever said.

The entire episode lasts two and half minutes give or take a few seconds, but it felt endless to Root.  It seems Shaw’s decided to pretend it never happened and Root willingly gives her what she needs.

Shaw’s not pretending, she just can’t process it yet, and if she tries it’ll turn into some dramatic scene she really doesn’t want to have with Root.  Shaw knows she likes Root more than she’s ever liked anyone, especially upon first meeting, and yeah she’s hot, but Shaw’s not in denial, she knows it’s already something more.  There’s something about her Shaw relates to and she’s probably also annoying and quirky, but she’s strong and smart and Shaw really respects it.

They end up dozing for a bit before Shaw wakes Root up with a kiss.  

   

* * *

 

Root runs the pads of her fingers up and down Shaw’s toned back and addictive ass. 

Shaw brings their lips together again and again, tugging and licking, the allegro of the symphony she’s conducting.  She slips gracefully into the adagio, studying Root with her mouth, discovering depth and dimension as she goes back for more and she can’t get enough.  She tumbles slowly into the minuet, nipping softly from Root’s mouth to the dip in her throat, shadowing her mouth with her fingers.  But she’s pulled into the rondo helplessly as she alternates savoring Root’s mouth with stroking her skin.

Root looses all track of time as they kiss and Shaw knows she’s never kissed anyone like this, but she can’t stop and she doesn’t care what it means.  She lets her hand dip lower running it up and down Root’s leg.  It feels soothing and Root’s racing heart calms slightly, even as her need and hunger for Shaw surges. 

She’s soaked and she’s burning for Shaw’s touch.  Shaw dips her head and licks tightening circles around Root’s nipple and it feels like an eternity before she takes the hardened nub in her mouth and scrapes with her teeth, comforting with her tongue, all the while stroking Root’s side down to her sculpted thigh.  Root arches into her mouth, her hands resting on Shaw’s shoulders.  ‘ _Sameen that feels sooo good baby_’  Her throaty voice sends shivers racing down Shaw’s body.  Another first.  Usually she halts pet names in their track.  Then again usually she doesn't give them her first name either.    

She mouths her way patiently down from their valley to her belly button.  She takes a side trip, her tongue tracing large slowly converging circles, until the tip of her tongue dips teasingly inside.  Root gives a breathy sigh and she’s reaching for the words to express how she feels but they stay just out of her reach.  But they’re not necessary anyway because Shaw’s focused entirely on Root’s body right where Root needs it. 

Shaw scoots a little further down until her head’s nestled between Root's legs.  She’s drunk on Root’s scent and takes a moment to just breathe her deep inside, caressing her legs, running her fingers from her calves to her hips and back.  Root feels worshiped; something no one’s ever cared enough about her to do.

The feel of Shaw’s hot breath ghosting over her sex makes her gasp in pleasure.  Shaw pulls back and plants more kisses on her thighs, moving up one and down the other.  Root’s so turned on she can’t help but arch suggestively.

Suddenly Shaw kisses her slit purposefully and Root moans in anticipation.  Shaw works her way from the bottom to just under her clit kissing every bit of her sex.  Root shivers and raises her hips again to Shaw’s mouth, her fists gripping the sheet under her. 

The warm air in the bedroom runs over the even warmer flesh of Root’s exposed sex, seeming to cool the heat of it without diminishing the raging flame of longing.  Shaw resumes kissing her thighs, up and down, avoiding her pulsing slit.  Root feels like she’s brimming with hunger for Shaw’s mouth.  She can feel her wetness running down to her ass. 

Shaw’s kisses come closer and closer and she lavishes Root’s slit with attention again.  When she hits her clit, Root trembles and Shaw grins.  She holds on to Root’s hips and licks and sucks and runs her tongue up and down Root’s inner and outer lips exquisitely.  She thrusts between her folds and Root wants Shaw more than she’s ever wanted anyone.  Shaw turns her focus to Root’s clit again and Root moans loudly.  ‘ _yes!_ ’  Shaw wraps her lips around Root’s sex, using the soft underside of her upper lip to stroke Root’s hood tenderly, while running her tongue just underneath. 

Root knows no sex has ever felt like this.  She’s torn between wanting to come desperately and never wanting it to end.  She bucks her hips as her orgasm hits and the pleasure rolls through her in waves.  She runs her hands through Shaw’s hair haphazardly and holds her head tightly right where she wants it.  The feeling keeps spiraling as Shaw increases the momentum of her strokes and Root looses all control.  ‘S _ameeen, don’t stop please baby don’t stop!_ ’ 

She bucks against Shaw’s mouth as her orgasm erupts, molten lava ravaging her body.  Shaw doesn’t stop and instead slips two fingers inside, dragging her pads delicately down Root’s inner walls, and drawing another orgasm from Root’s thrashing body.  What seems like an eternity later Root starts to come down and Shaw licks her slit slowly and gently as Root’s shudders fade away.

Root’s bones have liquefied and it takes her awhile to be able to move.  Shaw’s head is resting on her stomach and she’s been drawing random patterns on Root’s body unconsciously as she recovers.  Root pulls her up and claims her lips slowly, chasing her flavor around Shaw’s mouth as she relives every second of the night so far.  Because Shaw may not know it, but they’re nowhere near done.

 

* * *

 

Root raises her eyes in question, “I don’t know about you but I’m parched.”  Shaw nods yes and Root goes to the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of water and a bottle of tequila, salt, and a lime.  Shaw’s sprawled out on the bed on her stomach, a scrunched pillow under her breasts.  Root’s momentarily speechless.  Shaw’s ass is perfectly proportioned, and tight, and a shade slightly lighter than her exposed skin.

Shaw grins at her sardonically.  “Is that water going to make it over here anytime before I die of thirst?”  Root tears her eyes away from Shaw’s ass and saunters over not bothering to answer the question.  They both drink thirstily and Root places their glasses on the nightstand leaving the tequila bottle and accoutrements on the bed.  She stretches out next to Shaw so her mouth’s closer to Shaw’s ass and Shaw’s looking over her shoulder at her.

“Didn’t you forget something?”  Root knows what Shaw’s getting at but she feigns confusion.  “I don’t think so.”  She raises her eyes in question, an innocent smile on her face.  “Shot glasses?”  Root grins wickedly.  “Oh sweetie, your body’s the only glass I need.”  Shaw rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch with a smile.

Root gives a broad, soft, hot lick to Shaw’s ass cheek and Shaw hums approvingly.  She sucks softly at first, but she can’t help it and it graduates to a tantalizing bite, but she has a hunch Shaw might like a little pain with her pleasure.  She looks up at Shaw from under pale lashes and the look on Shaw’s face is all want and stormy desire, so she redoubles her efforts and sinks her teeth into the tender flesh.  Shaw groans throatily.

Root feels Shaw’s skin constrict and yield under her assault, but she doesn’t stop until she feels Shaw stop breathing completely, her hands fisted into the pillow.  Then she starts all over again until Shaw’s ass is riddled with her bites and she can smell her arousal.  She rubs the mottled skin soothingly and Shaw moans at the sudden change in sensations.

Root gives her ass cheek yet another broad, soft, hot lick but doesn’t bite, just running her tongue softly over the skin.  She reaches over and grabs the salt shaker and sprinkles it liberally over one side of Shaw’s ass and then squeezes the lime over the other.  Shaw hisses at the sting from the lime juice hitting the shallow abrasions left by Root’s teeth, but stays completely still.  Root opens the tequila bottle and pours a healthy amount onto the small of Shaw’s back.

She repositions, jarring Shaw slightly and sending rivulets of tequila down her sides.  She bends her head and Shaw looks over her shoulder, admiring Root’s caramel colored hair draping her face and her long elegant fingers resting at Shaw’s waist, ivory keys playing Shaw’s darker skin.

Root twirls her tongue over Shaw’s ass until all the salt’s gone except for a few grains still clinging to her lower lip.  She hollows out her cheeks and presses her mouth over the small of Shaw’s back, sucking and slurping the tequila enthusiastically.  After she’s caught every drop, she shifts up smoothly, mouthing all the lime juice off Shaw’s other cheek.  Shaw hisses again and tenses her glutes and Root moans appreciatively.

She places small kisses along Shaw’s spine until she finds Shaw eagerly waiting to drown in her mouth.  Her tongue steals in and licks Root’s tequila soaked lips, chasing the flavor until all that’s left is Root’s own sweet taste, which she finds she prefers to the taste of the salty tequila limed one.  Eventually they need to come up for air and draw apart gasping.

 

* * *

 

Shaw’s leaning on her elbow looking at Root who’s lying on her back next to her.  Her other hand is resting on Root’s abdomen, her fingertips wandering over Root's alabaster skin. 

“So Sameen, do you have a last name?”

“Shaw.  What about you?  I like Root, but I doubt it’s the name on your birth certificate.”  Root’s smile falters, but the sad look is gone so quickly, Shaw’s not sure if she imagined it. 

“Samantha Groves.”  Shaw cocks her head.  “Root suits you much better.”  Root lifts up and gives Shaw a playful kiss.  “Thanks.”

Shaw’s never been curious about her various one-night stands, but she finds herself interested in everything about Root.  “So when you’re not picking up strangers in bars, how do you spend your time?”

Root spits out a laugh.  “Who picked up who looks a little different from my perspective, but I own a cyber-security firm.  You?”  Shaw answers before it even occurs to her she has a rule about never revealing personal information to…well anyone really.  “My partners and I provide personal security services and consulting.”

Root eyes lose focus and she looks pensive.  “Sounds like we might have more in common than reckless sexual escapades.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and leans down, running the tip of her finger lightly over Root’s upper lip.  She gets lost in Root’s searing gaze and wonders for the first time tonight if she may be in over head.  But she stops thinking when Root pulls her the rest of the way down and claims her mouth, lapping gently, leisurely traveling her lips like time's standing still.

When they pull away, Shaw’s stomach growls and Root smirks.  “I guess someone’s hungry.”  Shaw looks at her lasciviously.  “I have quite an appetite.”  Root guffaws.  “Yes, well talking about food for the moment, there’s not much in my pantry but I can make us grilled cheeses or order something to be delivered.”

Shaw loves grilled cheeses and Root can tell by the light in Shaw’s eyes when she mentions it.  “Grilled cheeses it is then.”  She drags herself out of bed and throws a t-shirt and boxers on.  Cooking naked is just asking for trouble.

Shaw grabs the button down shirt she tore off Root earlier and follows.  The kitchen would make any professional chef proud, with top-of-the-line premium finishes and fixtures including custom white solid-wood cabinets, blue-stone counters and professional-grade appliances.  “Let me guess, chef in your spare time?”  Root looks over her shoulder and sticks out her tongue.  “I’m a really picky eater so I rarely eat out.  I just haven’t had a chance to stock up this week.  I wasn’t planning on entertaining,” she smiles cheekily and Shaw smirks.  “I wasn’t planning on eating out.” 

Root takes a pan out of a drawer and starts gathering ingredients.  “Are you a purist or are you open for an adventure?”

“Surprise me.”

“There’s beer in the fridge or a fully stocked bar in the living room.”  Shaw’s pretty much a beer person although she doubts Root stocks any of her usual favorites.  But she’s more than pleasantly surprised.  Root’s stock includes her favorite, Wild Heaven Eschaton from Georgia, as well as impossible to find, extremely small batch Lost Abbey Duck Duck Gooze.  Shaw murmurs without thinking, "I just might have to marry this woman." 

But there's nothing wrong with Root's hearing and she looks at her mischievously.  “What makes you think I’d say yes?”  Shaw raises her eyebrows and shakes her head, “I can be very persuasive...but don't hold your breath.”

If Shaw stopped to think for even a moment about all the things going on tonight that violate her rules, she’d run fast and long and hard.  But she’s not thinking.  She’s just following her gut and so far all’s good, different but better than good.  She pulls a beer from the fridge and settles in on a stool at the kitchen island to watch Root work.

Twenty minutes later Root lays a plate of assorted grilled cheeses on the counter.  She grabs a glass of white wine for herself.  “Please tell me you don’t need silverware to eat a grilled cheese.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and scowls.  “Do I look like a debutante?”  Root chuckles.  “Far from it, I’m happy to say.”

Shaw’s salivating at the smells.  There’s a variety to choose from and Root’s cut them all in half, which is good because Shaw intends to try each one.  She names them as she goes along.  There’s the Purist, with American cheese on perfectly grilled white bread.  The Root, with bacon, brie cheese, and baked apples.  The Blue, with goat cheese, arugula, and blueberries.  The Netherland, with gouda, roasted mushroom, and caramelized onions.  And the most creative one.  The Kitchen Sink, with mozzarella, gruyere, and left-over spaghetti.

Root’s riveted watching Shaw eat.  She devours the food with intensity and such abandon, it’s sexy as hell.  She gets Shaw another beer, afraid she might choke at the rate she’s eating.  And the sounds she’s making cause a pool of wetness to gather between Root’s legs.

Food is pretty much the only sure thing that excites Shaw, but she bites down her smile.  “These are pretty good.”  But Root sees the sparkle in her eyes and knows Shaw thinks they're a sight better than 'pretty good.'  She playfully mocks Shaw’s earlier statement. "I aim to please too.”

But Shaw can't repress her excitement.  “My favorites are the Root and the Kitchen Sink.”  Root looks at her confusedly.  “What and the what?” 

Shaw explains eagerly, wanting to make sure Root remembers which one’s she likes.  “I named them.  The Purist speaks for itself and the Kitchen Sink’s the one with the left-over spaghetti.  I’ve eaten all over the world and that’s a first.  The Root’s the one with the apples.  You taste like apples so I named it after you.”  Suddenly it occurs to Shaw she’s already planning on seeing Root again.  But who can blame her?  Mind-blowing sex and she can cook!  Not to mention her connoisseur’s selection of beers.

 

* * *

 

They bring their drinks back to Root’s bedroom, including an extra beer for Shaw.  She found one she’s always wanted to try but has never been able to track down. Her eye catches the title of a book on Root’s nightstand, Stranger In A Strange Land by Robert Heinlein.  She gestures to it with her hand.  “What’s it about?”

Root sighs fondly.  “It’s hard to explain, but it’s the first book I ever read that changed the way I looked at the world.  I first read it when I was 11.  I’m rereading the unedited version now.  When it was first published certain parts were deleted in fear they would be offensive. 

The story focuses on a human, Valentine Michael Smith, raised on Mars and his adaptation to, and understanding of, humans and their culture.  It’s set in a post-third world war America, where organized religions are politically powerful.  But really it was a deliberate attempt to challenge social mores.  In the course of the story, the author uses Smith's open-mindedness to reevaluate such institutions as religion, money, monogamy, and the fear of death.”

Shaw’s been watching Root’s face as she explains.  There’s a keen intelligence in her eyes hinting at a rich and vibrant inner life.  Shaw’s shocked by her almost desperate yearning to know that woman.  She’s not sure exactly what she wants but the ache for it is palpable.

“At 11 I already knew life was more the underside of the belly of the beast than anything else.  But I didn’t really understand.  Then I read a line in this book and it flushed understanding to my soul.  ‘I've found out why people laugh. They laugh because it hurts so much . . . because it's the only thing that'll make it stop hurting.’  I’m not sure I can explain it any better.” 

She looks up self-consciously and Shaw puts her beer down on the nightstand unhurriedly.  They look at each other and there’s something just out of Shaw’s reach, some insight sitting in the back of her mind that she knows will change everything, but it falls apart like gossamer in her hands when she tries to grasp it. 

So she leans in slowly, eyes fixed on Root’s until their lips are almost touching.  Root sighs and parts her mouth slightly, her warm breath bathing Shaw’s lips with a slow whisper.  ‘ _S a m e e n_ ’  She prolongs each letter as if to savor them.  Shaw’s tongue peeks out and strokes tentatively over Root’s upper lip and Root finds it impossible to resist.  She pulls them together, her tongue stroking Shaw’s.  Her hand rests below Shaw’s ear, her thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingle. 

Shaw runs her fingers down Root’s spine, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between them and she can feel the beating of Root’s heart against her chest.  They come up for air and she rests her head on Root’s shoulder.  She almost misses it when Root whispers.  “ _No one’s ever kissed me the way you do._ ”  The minute Root says it she knows it’s the night’s most intimate moment.  Shaw stiffens.

Root starts to pull away guessing it was a little too raw and honest for Shaw.  But although Shaw loosens her grip, she doesn’t let her go.  “ _Then they were doing it wrong_.”  Root’s smile is blinding and Shaw laughs out loud, uninhibited and genuine.

 

* * *

 

There’s a look in Root’s eyes that starts desire coiling in Shaw’s belly.  It’s almost…submissive.  She gives a knowing look.  “Tell me what you want.”  Root walks over to her nightstand and opens the drawer.  She pulls out a toy Shaw’s more than a little familiar with.  Shaw walks over and takes it from her hand slowly and smiles seductively.  “All you had to do was ask.”

Shaw lubes the feeldoe and tosses it onto the bed.  She unbuttons the shirt she’d borrowed from Root, letting it slide off her shoulders onto the floor.  Root’s eyes are blown wide as she studies Shaw’s every move.  Shaw cocks her head.  “You're overdressed.”  Root obeys the unspoken command instantly.  Once she’s naked, Shaw guides her gently down to the bed.

She crawls up Root’s body unhurriedly exploring every inch of skin with her mouth and hands.  Root’s never felt so aware of another human being, of Shaw’s sex-mussed midnight hair, her powerful biceps, her tempting lips, but more than anything she’s aware of her coal black eyes so full of light and fire. 

She throbs with a need she’s never known before tonight.  She feels like the edges of her body are melting and she’s becoming a part of Shaw.  She knows this feeling is dangerous, this one night may leave her wrecked, but she willfully _unknows_ it.  So when Shaw’s moist and kiss-bruised lips reach for her she arches into them and drinks her in and lets herself be consumed by the blaze burning between them.

Root tastes like the wine she’s been drinking, tart and fruity, and for a moment their mouths press hotly together and she tangles her hand in Shaw’s hair, placing her free hand on the nape of her neck and pulling her closer.  Her skin gives off a smoldering heat and when she wraps her legs around Shaw’s waist, Shaw growls with need.

There’s a conversation taking place beyond the physical hunger between them and it leaves Shaw breathless.  She knows she’s deliberately following a path strewn with the unknown and it may just be her undoing.  But she can’t stop herself.  She doesn’t want to stop herself because she’s never felt this _acutely_ , this _keenly alive_ as she has tonight with this fascinating woman writhing beneath her.

She can feel Root’s wetness painting her stomach.  She disengages almost reluctantly from her embrace and reaches over.  Root leans up and wraps her hand around Shaw’s and guides the feeldoe into her.  Shaw moans as she feels the pleasurable intrusion and Root’s finger grazes her clit. 

Root rests back on her elbows, watching Shaw kneel between her legs.  As Shaw leans forward Root reaches out and strokes the shaft, gaze locked on Shaw, and waits.  Their hands meet and they guide the tip to Root’s entrance together.

Shaw enters her with one smooth penetrating stroke and Root moans, her voice rich with need.  ‘ _Sameen_ ’  Their hot mouths press together as Shaw slowly starts to fuck her with long deep strokes.  She wraps her legs around Shaw’s waist and meets each of them in kind.  She groans softly every time Shaw buries the shaft deep inside her and their bare flesh meets.

They find a rhythm and Root wraps her arms around Shaw’s neck as they move together, the only sounds their ragged breaths and the muffled slaps of flesh meeting flesh.  The air's imbued with the smell of their sex, the sheets sticky with the evidence.

Every inch of Root's body responds to Shaw’s.  She knows it’s not about the mechanics.  Shaw’s attuned to the unique needs of her mind and body the way no one’s ever been.

The feel of Root’s legs gripping her thrusting ass and the death-grip on her shoulders drives Shaw wild.  She moans softly into Root’s ear, placing wet hot kisses on her neck.  Root’s getting frantic, pleasure spiraling tighter and tighter inside her.  Shaw looks into her eyes, slowing thrusting, her powerful biceps bearing her weight so she can fuck Root the way she wants.  She knows Root’s desperate, but she doesn’t want to rush.  She groans breathlessly.  ' _not yet_ ' 

Shaw’s always been orgasmic centric.  Get off and get out and her mind’s usually on something else in the meantime.  But there’s something different about tonight, about Root. 

The feel of Root’s skin, the smell of her breath as she pants into Shaw’s mouth and neck, the throaty moans, the way she’s gripping Shaw with her legs and her arms, her absolute focus on Shaw, the fearless way she shows her everything she’s feeling…it’s all just so _much_ and Shaw wants to live in the moment as long as possible.

_‘Sameen I love the way you move baby’_

_‘I’ve never felt so fucking good’_

_'Ahhhh…right there Sam…god! It’s perfect’_

Every word from Root’s mouth lands somewhere deep inside Shaw.  Even the way she calls her Sam, breathy and affectionate…Shaw can’t hold back anymore.  She pauses at the end of the next thrust, grinding her hips into Root, her pelvis moving in hard short circles, pressing harder against one side and then the other.

Root feels her orgasm building and she’s holding her breath, intensifying the pleasure to almost unbearable highs, her nails scratching down Shaw’s back, until she’s coming and she’s dizzy from the bolts of electricity coursing through her body… ‘ _Sameen!God!Yes!_ ’  Her cries send Shaw over the edge and she growls, something inside her bursting, and it lasts forever and not long enough as they push and pull against each other until Shaw’s muscles give out and she drops sluggishly onto Root.

They lay breathing raggedly for a minute and then Shaw slides out delicately and Root helps her pull the feeldoe out gently.  Root captures her lips in a tender kiss and Shaw lets herself feel it and they kiss softly until sleep starts to drag them under. 

Root cuddles into her body, throwing her hand over Shaw's stomach as she rests her head on her shoulder and Shaw lets her.  She knows she should get up and leave, but she can’t remember why and she’s done thinking.  She pulls the comforter up over their bodies as they drift to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Shaw wakes up hours later after a deep and dreamless sleep.  She pushes into Root’s neck sleepily, rubbing her face into Root’s warm skin.  Root kisses Shaw sloppily and moans softly, her eyes still closed.

It’s the first time Shaw’s ever spent the night with anyone, but she’s in no particular hurry to leave.  Something happened last night between her and Root, some connection, and she needs and wants reluctantly to understand.

She twines her legs with Root’s and reaches down to Root’s sex, wanting to feel her arousal again, knowing she's the reason it’s there.  She runs her finger slowly up Root’s slit and discovers evidence of her need already waiting for her.  Root hums in contentment and Shaw circles her clit, dipping down again, then spreading her slick around her hood and over her clit.  She rubs her gently in a soothing rhythm and Root’s orgasm swamps her lazily and she finally opens her eyes.

Root's hums contentedly and her eyes sparkle like someone whose heart's never been broken.  “Good morning sweetie.”

A creeping claustrophobia slowly seeps into Shaw's mind and she realizes she has no idea how this part goes, but she needs out.  Root feels Shaw tense next to her.  Unfortunately she’s not anymore experienced at this part than Shaw.  She never lets anyone stay the night.  But she has no trouble recognizing or accepting what she wants and she wants Shaw to stay.  For breakfast at least.  And maybe another shower. Oh, and is it too soon for forever?

She looks at Shaw affectionately and tries not to laugh at the panic on her face.  “Would I be correct in deducing you’re a coffee person?”  She figures it’s a safe enough question.  Shaw nods then clears her throat.  “Yeah, thanks.”

Root smiles and gets up from bed.  She makes a pit stop in the bathroom and heads for the kitchen.  She grinds the beans and starts the coffee brewing.  If last night was any indication, food is definitely important to Shaw.  So she takes out some eggs and ham and onions and cheese and by the time Shaw joins her, the omelets are ready and the bread’s about to pop from the toaster.

Root plates their food and gives Shaw a quick kiss.  “Hope you’re hungry.”  Shaw’s stomach growls on cue and she smirks.  “Yeah, that’s usually a safe bet.”  Root pours coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice and they eat in comfortable silence.  When they’re done Shaw takes their plates to the sink and helps Root load the dishwasher.

The need to leave has lost some of its urgency and she knows she wants to see Root again despite her previous apprehension, so fleeing without another word is probably not a good idea. “So, um, I guess I’ll get going.  Thanks…for…uh…everything.”   Root smiles with her entire body.  “My pleasure.”

Shaw walks to the entryway and collects the rest of her clothing, getting dressed and sitting down to put on her shoes.  Root walks her to the door, not sure what to say either, but knowing she wants to see Shaw again and she can’t let her leave without at least getting her number.  Directly from Shaw.  She hacked her phone last night as a precautionary measure.

Shaw unlocks the deadbolt and puts her hand on the doorknob.  But instead of opening the door she pauses.  She looks into Root’s eyes and she knows what she’s feeling is mutual.  This reluctance to part without the assurance they’ll see each other again.  Root senses she needs to let Shaw make the first move this morning.     

Shaw knows if she gives in to these unfamiliar feelings it’s not going to be three and done.  Her life will change in unpredictable ways and she’s tempted to just leave and let this be a pleasant memory for both of them.  But the louder voice in her head points out the memory will be ruined if it’s tinged with regret.

“Dinner at my place?” she blurts out.  “ _Absolutely._   I’d love to Sameen.”  Shaw sighs like she just escaped a close call with a bullet. 

Root feels she should say something before Shaw bolts.  “When?”

Shaw’s first though is tonight.  But she's not a hormonal teenager, she can just get her number and call.

Root can tell Shaw’s over thinking it, so she makes it easy.

“How about tonight?”  Shaw smiles smugly with a tinge of relief.  “Can’t wait to see me again?”

Root pulls Shaw to her by hooking a finger in her belt loop.  She leans in close and Shaw licks her lip in anticipation.  Root pulls back after a moment and Shaw sighs with disappointment.  Root cocks her eyebrows.  “That’s all a matter of… _perspective_ , I guess.”

Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she leans in for a short but deep kiss and opens the door.  Root rests her arms against the door frame and waits, wanting to watch Shaw’s ass as she walks away. 

Shaw realizes she hasn’t give Root her number.  But before she says anything her phone vibrates in her pocket.  When she pulls it out, she sees the contact name flashing.  “Root”

She looks up in surprise and sees Root holding her own phone.  “How’d you get my number?”  Shaw doesn’t get the double entendre until Root laughs.  “Apparently, very easily…I’ll see you tonight sweetie.” 

Shaw walks away while Root openly lusts after her ass. Oh, yeah.  This woman's under her skin, but for once the thought doesn't freak Shaw out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mood Music" Playlist
> 
> Get It On Tonite - Montell Jordan  
> Kisses Down Low - Kelly Rowland  
> Body Party - Ciara  
> Loft Music - The Weekend  
> Love to Love You Baby (Single version) - Donna Summer  
> This Woman's Work (Uncut) - Maxwell  
> Adore You - Miley Cyrus  
> Indo - Cassie-Saint Heron  
> I've Been Thinking - Handsome Boy Modeling School  
> Future Sex/Love Sound - Justin Timberlake  
> Untitled (How Does It Feel) - D'Angelo  
> Birthday Sex - Jeremiah  
> Open - Rhye  
> 1+1 - Beyonce  
> Retrograde - James Blake  
> Justify My Love - Madonna  
> Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Rey  
> Floyd - Kelis  
> Too Close - Next  
> Playground Love (with Gordon Tracks)- Air  
> If - Janet Jackson  
> Adorn - Miguel  
> Touch My Body - Mariah Carey  
> Flashing Lights - Kanye West  
> Come Get It Bae - Pharrell Williams  
> Doin' It Right (featuring Panda Bear) - Daft Punk  
> Crazy In Love - Beyonce  
> Pillowtalk - Zayn  
> Party Favors (featuring Young Thug) - Tinashe  
> Good For You - Selena Gomez  
> Earned It (Fifty Shades of Grey) - The Weeknd  
> Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande  
> Kiss It Better - Rihanna  
> The Only Way Out - Andra Day


	2. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don’t know what kind of corrupted life you’re living Root or what kind of fucked up moral guidance system drives you. But I will. Either you tell me or I let loose the considerable resources at my disposal until you have no secrets left.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself I wouldn't do this...start another story before finishing Shaw's Army, but my fingers had other ideas. This was supposed to be a one chapter slice.
> 
> But I have some time on my hands so I'll just have to balance the three.
> 
> As always, feed the author!

The air is thick with humidity and the overcast sky should’ve at least contributed to a cool breeze, but instead the steely gray clouds just weigh down on Shaw like heavy damp newspaper.  But the weather didn’t dissuade the people or the vendors, and rows of tables and booths are stacked with local seasonal produce and products. There’re tables piled high with bundles of carrots, ears of corn, fennel bulbs, fresh herbs, bags of onion, and countless other vegetables. Baskets are brimming with fruit and Shaw spots her prey. 

She moves, silently stalking… apples.  Her eyes narrow as she inspects a basket of fortune apples like it’s a nuclear power plant and she’s from the nuclear regulatory commission.  The mild spiciness and the slight sweetness unique to this variety will pair nicely with the sharp spiciness of the ginger in tonight’s dessert.

A whiff of citrus wafts under her nose as she bends over, and she’s immersed in a flurry of memories from last night.  The smell of Root’s skin and the taste of her lips, the arch of her body as she came in Shaw’s mouth, the reverent way she moaned Shaw’s name.  Shaw smiles ruefully to herself, she didn’t fare much better than Eve in the garden.   

She shakes her head and takes a crunchy bite.  The vendor doesn’t look up at the sound, her weathered face buried in the screen of her phone.  They’d reached an understanding.  Shaw can taste all the fruit she wants and pays for every bite.  The first time she’d graciously offered her a free sample, only to watch in horror as Shaw ate a field’s worth of profits before making her selection.

Shaw approves and buys several; the vendor smiles as she takes Shaw’s money and tosses the apples into a slippery plastic bag.  Shaw frowns at the careless treatment of her purchase and scowls at the woman, who’s not intimidated by the look that makes grown men cry. 

On her way out she picks up some ginger and fresh pasta, quickly irritated by the vendors calling out to her.  The wind’s picking up and she wants to make it home before she ends up irritated _and _wet.__

 

* * *

 

Shaw’s no slouch in the kitchen but she wants tonight’s dinner to be memorable.  But why?  The thought makes her uncomfortable and an urge to cancel starts to take hold but she suppresses it.  It's just dinner.  Right? 

She almost doesn’t answer when the phone rings, but then sees its Zoe and wants to make sure everything’s ok.  “Hey Zoe.  What’s up?”

“Did you get home okay last night?  I called, but you didn’t answer.  I almost went by to check on you.”

“No, I mean yeah, I’m fine.”

“You hooked up with someone!  I knew that’s why you didn’t leave with us!  Wait ‘til I tell Joss she needs to pay up!”

“No!  Wait, you and Joss bet on my sex life?!  What the hell Zo?!”

She can hear Zoe’s deep laugh.  “I’m hanging up now Zoe.”

“No wait, tell me about her.  On a slut factor of 1 to 10.”

Normally Shaw doesn’t mind this type of banter with Zoe.  But today it makes her angry.  “Stop.  It wasn’t like that and it’s none of your business.”  Zoe’s shocked into silence.  It’s not like Shaw to be sensitive about a one night stand.  Unless…

“I’m sorry Shaw.  I was just teasing you.”  Shaw sighs.  “I know.  Look I have to go.  I’ll call you later.”  She hangs up before Zoe can say anything else.

 

* * *

 

Today 5:04 PM

Root @ Shaw // Hey sweetie, can I bring anything tonight?

Shaw @ Root // Nah, I got it covered.  Any allergies I should know about?

Root @ Shaw // Not unless you count your absence.

Shaw @ Root // Your lines are getting worse.  7:30?

Root @ Shaw // Sure.  See you then.

Shaw @ Root // Don’t you need the address?

Root @ Shaw // Don’t worry.  I’ll find you. <3

Shaw really has to talk to Root about just how she’s acquiring all this information on Shaw’s life.  It should be creeping her out, but mostly she’s just curious and more than a little impressed.  When Root told her what she did for a living Shaw pegged her as a hacker.  Hacking Shaw's phone was probably child's play.  But if any of the people she’d ever slept with proved as adept, she definitely would’ve hurt them.  Severely.

 

* * *

 

Root can’t remember the last time she went on a date.  It’s a date right?  If someone invites you over to their place for dinner?  Other than occasional one-night stands, she’s never been in any type of relationship.  Usually she goes to her ‘date’s’ place or a hotel.  Being a hacker, she’s well aware of the dangers of letting a stranger into your space.  But there’s just something about Shaw that slipped under her skin the moment they met. 

 

* * *

  

Shaw hears the knock on her door a little after 7:30 as she’s uncorking the wine.  When she opens it Root’s eyes are projecting undiluted affection and her lips are gently tugged upwards in mischief behind the veil of her fingertips.  “Hey sweetie.”  She steps in and kisses Shaw softly just behind her earlobe and whispers.  “ _I missed you._ ”  If Shaw were the type to melt, Root's hot breath in her ear and the deliberately deep tone might have accomplished it.  But she's not.  But she notes it didn't suck.

Shaw clasps her hand and pulls her in gently as she shuts the door.  Root hands her a bottle wrapped in a golden argyle sock with a matching cheeky bow.  Shaw raises an eyebrow in question.  “Open it.”  It turns out to be a bottle of scotch.  Very good scotch.  Shaw's favorite scotch.

“Have you been hacking my credit card purchases in addition to my phone?”

“Maybe I just have good taste in scotch Sameen.”  Shaw quirks her eyebrows sarcastically and shakes her head.  Root knows they’ll be coming back to the hacking issue again by the knowing look Shaw shoots her.

Shaw’s loft is in an industrial building and Root guesses it used to be a warehouse.  Shaw’s style clearly trends to minimalist and there are only a few pieces of furniture as well as some richly colored rugs delineating the space.  The king-sized bed faces the window and Root’s erotic imagination immediately supplies the image of Shaw restrained and bound to the intricate iron work interlaced with the solid wood.  She tries to yank her mind back to the present, but spots the massive dining room table and the image shifts to all the creative ways they can put it to use.

She manages to shake those thoughts loose, at least for now, and follows Shaw to the kitchen area, sitting at the counter.  The kitchen boasts stained steal appliances and a rack of copper pots and pans dangling overhead.  There’s already a cheese and fruit plate set out and Shaw reaches into the fridge for the bottle of champagne she’s been chilling.  She pours them each a glass and sets the bottle in an ice bucket.

“So are we celebrating?”  Root asks coyly.

Shaw shrugs her shoulders.  “Does there have to be a reason to drink champagne?”

“Not at all...Your place is fantastic Sameen.  What’s downstairs?  I didn’t see a sign.”

“Our offices.”  Shaw doesn't expand and Root doesn't push.  Shaw asks about Root’s work, but before she can answer there’s a knock at the door.  Root’s glad for the interruption because it's not a part of her life she can ever share with Sameen. 

Shaw’s shoulders tense as she walks over to the door and Root notices she approaches it from the side as opposed to standing in front of it.  There’s a small table with a drawer in the entryway and Root sees her place her hand on the handle and pull it out before she slides the door open quickly.

She sighs resignedly and looks annoyed.  Instead of letting whoever it is inside, she steps into the hall, leaving a small gap between the door and the doorjamb. 

Outside, Shaw’s glaring at Joss and Zoe.  “What are you guys doing here?” 

Shaw already yelled at Zoe today, so she steps behind Joss discreetly, forcing her to take the lead.  Joss holds up a bottle of wine in explanation.  “Is there a reason we’re not having this conversation inside?” 

Joss and Zoe frequently pop over since Shaw never brings anyone else to her loft.  If she’s home they hang out either watching a movie or playing one of Zoe’s stupid drinking games.  So Shaw’s obvious reluctance to let them in strikes them as more than a little strange.  Plus their motives aren't totally innocent.  Zoe's like a dog with a bone and she always drags Joss around on her escapades.  She wants to know what type of woman it took to pierce Shaw's armor.

“Not tonight. I’m busy.”  But Zoe slips her slender frame through the gap in the door without warning before Shaw can block her.  “Zoe!  Get back here!”  Shaw’s whisper shouting, but she knows it’s hopeless.  Once Zoe makes up her mind, nothing stops her.

Shaw chases after her before she says anything embarrassing, leaving Joss to come in and close the door.

“Root this is Zoe and that’s Joss.” 

They're both very attractive.  Zoe's slim with a nice body and pretty eyes.  She's not too tall, but makes up for it with three inch heels.  It obvious she dresses to impress, makeup perfectly but not heavily applied, designer clothes, and not a hair out of place.  In contrast, Joss' dressed much more casually.  She has curves in all the right places, full breasts, and perceptive brown eyes. 

It occurs to Root Shaw may have slept with either of them.  Her gaydar's not pinging but it's not like it’s foolproof.  Sexuality's a fluid concept and people aren't usually just one thing. Root feels an unpleasant fluttering in her chest at the thought.    

She snaps back to the present and smiles, but Shaw notices it doesn’t reach her eyes.  She doesn’t seem upset by the interruption, but there's no trace of the warm open smile she’s been giving Shaw since they met. 

Zoe brings out two more champagne flutes.  “So Root, when did you and Shaw meet?”  Before Root can answer, Shaw glares at Zoe.  “Don’t start.”  She rolls her eyes and looks at Root.  “Just call her meddle.”  Joss almost spits up her champagne and tries to change the subject. 

“Where’d you order from Shaw?  It smells delicious.”  Now it’s Joss’ turn to be the recipient of Shaw’s glare.  “Nowhere.  I’m cooking.”  Zoe raises her eyebrows, shocked.  “You’ve never cooked for us!”  Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  "Why would I?"

Root’s just been watching the interaction, but it seems to her Shaw’s progressing from annoyed to angry.  She doesn’t want their night ruined so she steps into the fray and engages the girls in conversation that’s not focused on Shaw.

“Zoe I love that dress, Gucci right?”  Zoe nods once in reply, but there's some preening in her smile.  Joss feigns exasperation with a smile on her face.  "The amount of money Zoe spends on her wardrobe could put my son through college.  And graduate school.  And medical school."

“Joss pretty much walks on her elbows, so they’re in constant need of a retread,” Zoe volunteers.  Joss shoves her arm playfully, but none too gently.  “You’re just jealous.”

Root admires their obvious friendship and affection for each other.  “So you both work with Shaw?”  Shaw gives her a curious look.  Did she just guess or was her hacking not limited to Shaw's phone?  She feels a fleeting suspicion Root may not be what she seems, but she shrugs it off as paranoia.  She always expects the worse from people.  Occupational hazard.

She's more annoyed Root just used her last name.  She’s been calling her Sameen or Sam and Shaw decides she doesn’t like the change.  It implies a space Shaw doesn’t want. 

“Yes, we founded the company together.  Didn’t Shaw tell you?”

Shaw's lost count of how many times she's rolled her eyes in the last five minutes, but she grins mischievously.  “No, you two were not foremost in my mind, or at all really, until you barged in here uninvited and unannounced five minutes ago.”  Shaw's tone says she's kidding but Joss knows when she’s at the edge of her patience and grabs Zoe's hand.  “Come on Zo, let’s go bother the guys.  It was great meeting you Root.”

Root gives the same perfunctory smile.  “You too.”

Zoe waves as Joss pulls her towards the door.  “Enjoy your dinner.  Root, check the garbage for takeout containers, but if Shaw really did cook you’ll have to tell us if she’s talented in the kitchen.”

“Oh, I have no doubt she’ll prove to be as talented in the kitchen as she is in other areas.”  Shaw blushes and now Zoe’s really intrigued.  Shaw doesn’t do blushing.  But Joss gives her a warning look and pinches her side.  “Let’s go Zoe.”  Shaw closes the door behind them with a little more force than technically necessary.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry.  I never bring anyone here.”  She frowns, but doesn't say anything else.  “I didn’t mind Sameen.  They seem really nice.  So how long have you had the loft?”

“A few years.”

Root looks confused.  “You’ve never brought anyone here?” Shaw supposes it’s kind of weird and the somewhat disbelieving tone is to be expected, but it makes her defensive.  “No. Just the team.”  Root senses Shaw doesn’t really want to explain, so she drops it.

“So what are we having for dinner?”

Shaw's frown morphs to excitement and she answers enthusiastically, “sour shrimp with pasta.  It’s a Persian dish my father used to make me.  Desert’s a surprise.”  Shaw walks over to stir the sauce.  “I just have to throw the shrimp in for five minutes and we can eat.”  Root follows her to the stove and leans over her shoulder.  “It really does smell scrumptious.” 

Shaw turns around, but Root doesn’t move so their bodies are pressing together.  In the soft light Root’s eyes are the color of soft brown sugar with a sense of openness as well as a hint of enigma, and Shaw falls into them as quickly as she’s falling for Root.

But she also sees danger in Root’s eyes.  They’re the rocks against the shore that destroy ships and the strong scotch Shaw loves, and she suspects they can melt you or crush you with their under-layer of earth and soil. Yeah, her eyes are brown.  And they’re a torment of passion.

Shaw leans in and she realizes Root’s wearing flats because they’re actually at eye level since Shaw has heels on.  It’s nice.  She places a soft peck on her lips.  That was all she intended, but it was like a spark that ignites a fire and then Root runs the tip of her tongue over her lower lip and Shaw’s lost all over again.  Root kisses like kissing is the only way they have to communicate. There is no conversation. There is no sex. There are only two sets of lips that are ravenous to be recognized.

She tangles her hands in Root’s hair and Root wraps her arms around Shaw’s neck, while Shaw traces the valley between her lips with her tongue.  Parting her lips, she deepens the kiss. It's like a tango, first moving slow and rhythmic and then, when they’re both panting and their tongues collide, the kiss turns into a hot, fast dance Shaw never wants to end.  She’s participated in her share of hot kisses and then some, but Root’s lips are more sensual, sexy, and extremely addictive than any she’s ever tasted before.

They draw apart, ragged breaths echoing in the open space.  “I think you better sit back down or we’ll never eat tonight.”  Root pouts but obediently returns to her chair.  The fresh shrimp pink up immediately when they sink into the fragrant sauce.  Shaw plates the al dente linguine and gently ladles the shrimp and sauce on top.  It only takes a few minutes and they move to the dining room table.  Shaw pours the zinfandel, which pairs perfectly with the tart and hot flavor profile of the dish.

They eat in comfortable silence.  Shaw rarely talks while she’s eating; it’s as close as she comes to a religious experience.  Root gets distracted watching her eat.  Her face is amazingly expressive.  The way her mouth seems to caress every bite and her eyes roll in delight.  “Sameen this is delicious.”  Shaw smiles and nods in acknowledgment but doesn’t stop eating.  Root feels like she’s a voyeur looking into a secret world.  It’s weird right?  Being turned on by the way Shaw eats?  Maybe it’s just everything about Shaw intrigues her.

“Are you going to make staring at me eat a habit?”  Root can tell Shaw doesn’t realize the implicit assumption of her question.  “It depends.  How often do you plan to eat together?”  But Shaw takes the question and the insinuation in stride.  “More than once.”  Root certainly hopes that’s true.  “Then yes,” she answers cheekily. 

But she knows whatever this is between them has an expiration date.  Once Shaw figures out the extent of Root’s extralegal activities, Root has no doubt she’ll put an end to whatever they’ve found between them.  But she's determined to enjoy their time together while it lasts.  She knows she should walk away now, before they really get involved, if only to avoid her own heartbreak, but even the idea of walking away crushes her.  It’s going to take Shaw pushing her out of her life, because she’s already fallen too far.

Shaw’s cleared the table while Root’s been ruminating and comes out with a simple apple ginger sorbet for desert.  “Yes, I made this too,” she informs Root grumpily.  “I wasn’t going to ask sweetie, there’s nothing artificial about you.  It doesn’t surprise me it extends to your culinary skills.”  Root gets her first taste and her whole body smiles.  “So.  I guess you really do like apples.”  Shaw smiles slyly while she twirls her spoon thoughtfully.  “I guess you could say I’ve developed a recent fondness for them.”

 

* * *

 

Shaw pours them both a scotch and Root follows her out to the balcony.  Her loft boasts a stunning view of the Manhattan skyline and now Root understands why the bed faces the floor to ceiling windows.  Falling asleep every night to the view must be magical. 

It's not long before Root's shivering.  She doesn’t say anything, but Shaw notices and brings her a sweater.  The subtle earthy-spicy scent unique to Shaw surrounds Root when she slips the sweater over her head; she closes her eyes and inhales slowly as she pulls it down her slender frame.  They stay outside a little longer until they finish their drinks.  Again they bask in comfortable silence as if they’ve known each other forever and don’t need words to fill the space between them.

But before they go any further, Shaw needs to have a serious conversation with Root.  She picks up the dishes from dessert while Root freshens up. 

 

* * *

 

When Root comes out she finds Shaw sitting on the arm chair next to the couch.  She dreads whatever the next few minutes will bring and drags her footsteps trying to forestall the inevitable.  She knew this moment would come, just not this soon; she’d thought they’d have more time.

Shaw’s wearing a blank expression and Root wonders what she’s thinking.  Her arms are clenched across her chest, almost like she’s putting a physical barrier between them.  Root’s heart is galloping as she waits for her to speak.  Luckily or maybe unluckily, Shaw’s not one for dissembling, so she gets right to the point.

“What else did you hack?”  Root thinks about lying but only for a second.  If they’re to have a chance beyond this moment, there can’t be any lies and illogically and recklessly she wants a chance.  She takes too long to answer and Shaw gives her a hard stare.

Root paws her hand through her hair and takes a deep pained breath.  “Everything.”

“Like what?”

Root lets out a hard sigh and closes her eyes.  “All of it.  Your employment files, property records, bank accounts, credit report, anything that has an electronic footprint and your name.”

Shaw feels tightness in her chest but all Root sees is a condescending smile.  “Most of my employment records are classified.  You’re telling me you accessed the servers at the department of defense, the national security agency, and the central intelligence agency?”  Root's falling like an anvil off a cliff and she looks away, a brief reprieve from Shaw's searing disgust.

Shaw juts her chin and her nostrils flare.  She looks at Root through flinty eyes.  “Why?”  A sudden bout of nausea flares through Root.  She clears her throat and looks away again.  “Because my occupation makes it’s dangerous and possibly lethal for me to trust anyone.”  She can see the muscles in Shaw’s face tighten and feels the weight of her stare.

“When?”  Root’s not sure what Shaw’s asking.  “When did you hack my life?”

“While you were sleeping last night.”  Shaw shakes her head and scowls in fury.  “What do you intend to do with the information?”  Root feels sick to her stomach at the thought Shaw thinks she would hurt her.  “Nothing Sameen,” she whispers.

Shaw eyes flash with anger and she cracks her knuckles.  “This is the part where you give me one good reason why I should believe anything you say.”  Root feels Shaw’s words like a slap and there's a thickness in her throat.  What can she say to convince Shaw she's never lied to her?  She's trapped in a paradox where the question is the answer.  The truth.  But she has to try.  She sits up and looks at Shaw unflinchingly.  "I've never lied to you."   

Shaw scrubs her hand over her face.  This is why she just bangs them and leaves them.  Now instead of masturbation fodder last night’s turned into a nightmare.

“Did you access my client files?”

“No.”

Shaw doesn’t understand why, but she believes her.  She doesn’t believe Root intended to hurt her or that she’d use the information for any nefarious purpose.  But it’s an incredible violation of her privacy and now she doesn’t trust her.  Something occurs to Shaw and her head snaps back.

“For all you knew last night was just a one-night stand, so why bother?”

Root clutches her stomach wishing she could will Shaw into believing her.  “From the moment you kissed me I knew I wanted more.  I want more.”

Shaw’s eyes rake Root with seething contempt.  “You know I’ve never, not once, spent the night with anyone, much less share my home.  I fuck them and leave.  I rarely give them my first name. Clearly what I should have done last night.  But I felt something different with you.  I felt safe and I thought maybe it could be more too.  But I can’t trust you and trust matters more to me than anything else.”

Root feels achingly bereft and the silence now feels oppressive.  “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I never want to see you again.”  Shaw utters the last sentence in a pain filled whisper.  "Just leave." 

Root feels dizzy and she can't stop her eyes from tearing, her voice choked with emotion, guilt, despair, and most of all remorse.  “Sameen, please.  Let’s talk about it.”

Shaw holds her hand up as if warding off Root’s plea.  “No.  It's a dead-end street.  Nothing you say will change what you did.” 

But Shaw cocks her head in thought and Root thinks maybe there’s hope after all.  “Even the playing field.”  Shaw wants the one thing Root can't or won't, she's not sure if there's a difference, give her.  Root lowers her head and Shaw knows her answer before she speaks.  “I can’t Sameen.”

Shaw spits out a scorn laced invective.  “Get the fuck out of my loft Samantha Groves.  If I ever see you again, I will kill you.”  Shaw walks to the door and yanks it open.  She doesn’t look at Root again and slams the door shut behind her.  At least as hard as someone can slam a steel door on tracks.

Root’s tears fall silently as she makes her way downstairs.  She wants to turn around and tell Shaw everything.  How could she possibly have fallen in love so quickly?  Even though she’s never felt it before, love is the only answer for the way she feels.  But fear laden steps keep her moving.

 

* * *

 

Shaw picks up the glasses.  One of them is stained by Root’s ruby red lipstick and there’s still a little scotch left.  She slams it back, feeling the burn, and then throws the glass against the wall.

She stands on the balcony and looks down even though she tells herself it’s not to watch Root leave.  That’s way too maudlin for Shaw, but she looks for her nonetheless.  Root glances up, scrunched into herself, but keeps walking.  Shaw steps back before Root sees her. 

She hears a car door slam and doesn’t think anything of it.  But then she hears a gunshot crack the air and she watches Root fall, her head slamming against the concrete.  She sees the gunman hover over Root and take aim at her prone body. 

Her body reacts without thought.  And she knows two things instantly.  There’s no time to go inside and grab a gun and she needs to get to Root before he shoots again.  So she jumps off the second story balcony, falling into a roll, but jarring her shoulder on impact.  Pain from injuries can fog the mind and break the body, but Shaw has an almost inhuman pain threshold and it barely registers. 

The man looks up and she gets a good look at him.  He takes one more look at Root and flees.  Shaw sees the car’s taillights as he’s racing by, but she doesn't give the car a second glance because her priority is making sure the last thing she said to Root before she dies isn’t that she’d kill her.  Shaw can't think of a stupider reason, but the thought came unbidden, the universe slapping her in the face with irony.  Not being able to lie to yourself really sucks.   

Root’s conscious, but not alert enough to understand what’s happening. She’s extremely sweaty and breathing hard.  “Sameen.”  One look at the wound and Shaw knows she heard right, it’s definitely from a high muzzle velocity pistol, but there’s no exit wound, which is unusual for that type of gun. 

She refocuses.  Root’s blood is seeping into Shaw’s clothes and a puddle stretches out beneath them.  She needs to stop the bleeding and get Root to a hospital.  She tears off her shirt and uses it to stem the blood flow. 

For the first time Shaw regrets she lives in an industrial neighborhood with no neighbors.  The area becomes a ghost town at night, which means there’s little chance anyone heard the shot and called 911.  She has no choice.

Shaw turns Root's face towards her, leaving bloody hand prints behind.  “Root, look at me.  I need to go upstairs for help before you bleed out on the sidewalk.”  Shaw's bed-side manner doesn't improve even in life or death situations, which is why she got kicked out of medical school.  Then again it hardly matters. 

She places Root’s hand over the bloody shirt inadequately staunching the bleeding, but it’s better than nothing.  “Press down as hard as you can, I’ll be right back.  Don’t move.”  She doubts Root will be conscious much longer anyway.  She's already going into shock.  

She races up the stairs and realizes her shoulder’s dislocated.  When she reaches her door, she remembers her keys are inside and her door is locked.  She takes a second and slams her shoulder against the wall, not bothering to bite down her scream.  It's still excruciating pain but at least now its back in its socket and she can use it to climb up to the balcony.

She’s not sure how she manages it with her injured arm, but her body’s flushed with adrenaline and her synapses are firing lightening fast.  She grabs her medical kit, phone, and gun and sprints back to Root.  She’s unconscious and her pulse is thready but she’s still breathing.

Shaw waits impatiently as the phone rings on the other end of the line.  She doesn’t waste any time when it’s answered.  “John, are you home?”  He can tell by the sound of her voice it’s not a time to ask questions.  “Yes.”  His voice is low and gravelly and devoid of emotion, which is what Shaw needs. “My place.”

After everything Root told her tonight, or more accurately didn’t tell her, Shaw wonders if it’s safe to take her to a hospital.  Plus someone may be trying to kill her.  It could be random, but it’s doubtful someone would pick an almost deserted part of town to find someone to shoot.

John Reese works for Shaw and she considers him a friend.  They’re a lot alike with similar backgrounds and Shaw’s probably closer to him than anyone, even though their conversations are mostly monosyllabic.  Reese lives a mile from Shaw so he’s on sight within a few minutes, having broken every speed limit and ignored all traffic norms like stopping for red lights.

He pulls up and sees Shaw kneeling on the sidewalk, bent over a bleeding and unconscious woman. He knows it's a gunshot instantly and by the way it's bleeding it entered through her chest.  Shaw’s obviously trying to stem the blood loss.  He bends down and helps her situate Root in the backseat so she can crawl in after her.

He jumps back in the car and races to the safe house without another word.  If Shaw wanted the woman at a hospital she would’ve called 911.  “Call Trent.”  Trent’s a doctor they helped with a delicate matter and now he helps them when they need someone treated discreetly.  His day job as a trauma surgeon makes him an indispensable addition to their team.

"There's a clean shirt in my gym bag on the floor."  Shaw wonders why he's imparting that bit of useless trivia until she realizes she's in her bra.  But applying pressure to Root's wound is more important than being fully clothed.  She has clothes at the safe house.

They reach the safe house 10 minutes later and Trent’s waiting.  He takes charge of the situation immediately, his manner calm, but purposeful.  Nothing fazes him.  He's seen it all.  They get Root into the mini operating suite.  While Trent scrubs, Shaw explains.  “She was shot at relatively close range with some type of high muzzle velocity pistol.  The entry wound’s a mess and there’s no exit wound.”

Shaw's not really telling him anything he doesn't already know from his first look at the patient as they brought her in, but it seems Shaw's compelled to tell him anyway.  “Do you know her blood type and medical history?”  Shaw looks almost embarrassed but it’s no time for awkwardness.  “No.”

“Then get me a couple of units of type O Rh D.”  Trent goes to work and Shaw assists.  It's also not necessary but certainly helpful should something go wrong.  Reese waits in the living room. 

Reese hasn't asked any questions.  He knows if Shaw wants to tell him, she’ll do it in her own time.  So he just sits quietly with a thoughtful look on his face. 

It’s obvious by the emotions he saw racing across Shaw’s face, the woman’s important to her.  She’s worried, and angry, and most significant, scared.  The tendons in her neck were standing out, her pulse visible.  Reese’s never seen her look anything but angry or something that could best be described as content, but in Shaw it’s just an absence of anger.

While she hovers over Root needlessly, Shaw considers what comes next.  She has her own computer hacker, Harold Finch, on staff and wonders if she should call him.  Shaw knows without a doubt he could hack Root’s life from birth and give them some sort of insight into why someone wants Root dead.  But it seems so hypocritical.  Then again, Root’s the one lying on the operating table with a bullet in her body.

Shaw decides against it for now.  Finding the shooter can wait until Root’s conscious again.  She paces incessantly while outside Reese wonders exactly who this woman is to Shaw.  He’s never seen her before and he knows everyone in Shaw’s life.  She'd never bring a random stranger to her home.  She barely lets anyone but him, Zoe and Joss through the front door.  Even Fusco's been forced to wait downstairs several times because Shaw won't let him up.

Trent’s able to dislodge and extract the bullet and stop the internal bleeding.  But it wasn’t completely intact.  If he missed just one fragment, the patient may bleed to death before anyone realizes it.  It occurs to him he doesn't even know her first name, although with this team he's learned ignorance is less likely to get you killed.  “She’s lucky.  Another millimeter to the left and it would’ve hit her heart.  She’ll need to be monitored closely for any signs of infection or internal bleeding.  Call me if you need me.” 

He doesn’t need to give further instruction.  Shaw’s a doctor even if she didn’t finish her residency and she intends to monitor Root closely for a variety of reasons, some of which she's not going to acknowledge, even to herself. 

But it's too much in too short a time span and she shuts down.  Shaw's emotions have always been muted and she likes it that way.  But Root exploded into her life and all of a sudden the decibels are eardrum piercing.  She doesn't know what to with them.  Being angry with Root is easy, but Shaw knows there's so much more once she scratches beneath the surface.  She also knows she can't handle it.  She's just not built that way.    

“Ms. Shaw, she was asking for you.”  Shaw just nods and walks him to the door.  She turns to Reese.  “Thanks.”  She knows no other words are needed.  Reese elevates economy of words to an art form.  “I'll handle it.”  Reese knows she’s perfectly capable, but even Shaw needs emotional support upon occasion. He leaves without another word only because he’s planning on picking up take-out.  Shaw has an almost orgasmic relationship to food and he knows it comforts her more than words.

Shaw needs a break to get her head on straight and she knows Root will be okay for the 5 minutes she needs.  So she takes a scalding shower and changes.

 

* * *

 

Root’s sleeping, probably from a combination of the anesthesia and pain medication.  The only sounds the rhythmic hum of the equipment monitoring her vitals and the slow drip of the IV. 

Shaw’s crawling out of her skin, still overwhelmed by the jumbled physical effects caused by emotions she can’t process properly.  There’s tightness in her chest, a sinking feeling in her stomach, and for some reason her legs are shaky.  So she sags into the chair next to Root to think, her eyes closed.  She’s known Root for less than 24 hours and already she’s turned Shaw’s life upside down.  She should’ve just called an ambulance and the cops and been done with Root and whatever trouble’s following her around.  So why didn’t she?

Root's voice is raspy so she clears her throat.  “Sameen.” 

Shaw sucks in a deep breath and sighs.  When she opens her eyes, Root’s watching her with teary eyes and something else she can't recognize, and an intense wave of protectiveness washes through Shaw. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Did you expect to be shot?”  It comes out gruffer than Shaw intended.

“No.”

“Then at least there's one thing you don't need to apologize for.”

“You saved my life.  Thank you.”  Shaw shrugs the comment away, never knowing what to say in the face of someone’s gratitude.  “Is there any reason someone would want to kill you?”  Root sighs.  “Not really, but I do deal with…questionable people in my line of work.”  Shaw stares at her blankly.  “Which is?” 

Root won’t meet Shaw’s eyes.  “Something that would get me life in prison if I’m caught.  It’s not something a person like you would understand.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and scowls.  “You think you know me because you read my file?  You have no clue what I'm capable of.”  Her jaw tightens and she narrows her eyes.  “I risked my life for you tonight.  You owe me an explanation.”

“You’re asking me to trust you enough to willingly put my future in your hands.”

Root can see the moment Shaw’s anger escalates to rage.  She jumps up from her seat and there’s an angry flush rising up her neck.  She stares at Root, but she doesn’t yell, her voice deadly calm.  “I already had your life in my hands.  Both literally and figuratively.  I protected you by bringing you here instead of a hospital and I didn’t call the cops.  I’m guessing either one of those would’ve meant trouble of the serious kind for you. 

I don’t know what kind of corrupted life you’re living Root or what kind of fucked up moral guidance system drives you.  But I will.  Either you tell me or I let loose the considerable resources at my disposal until you have no secrets left.”


	3. Freefall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw looks away. “My gut told me I was safe with you.” She feels a heaviness in her chest and she looks into Root’s eyes with a pained expression, whispering. “But I wasn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's kind of angsty. Okay really angsty. But it'll all work out eventually, one way or another. ;)

Root thinks very carefully about her next words.  If she tells Shaw the truth, her life as it exists now will be over.  But she’s known Shaw for only 24 hours.  What kind of madness lets her even consider telling her the truth?  Some crazy conviction they belong together?  Love?  It better be more than love, even Root knows love is never enough. 

She licks her lips and takes a hard swallow.

She’s trapped in Shaw’s gaze, dark pools of oil staring at her unflinchingly.  “Okay Sameen. But I need one concession.”  Shaw’s brows draw closer and her face tightens.  Root sees her clench her fists like a couple of pistons.  “If you decide to turn me in, you give me 24 hours to disappear.”

Shaw’s nod of agreement is almost imperceptible.  Her heart thudding in her chest, Root takes a blind leap of faith.  “I do own a cyber-security firm, but I’m also a hacker and some-time assassin for hire.”  Shaw feels a heaviness expand in her core but her expression doesn’t change.  She turns and walks calmly out of the room.

She expected something criminal, but an assassin? 

She finds a bottle of scotch and pours herself two fingers and slams them back.  Shaw’s served her country and helped people her entire life.  But she’s always brutally honest, especially with herself.  She was an assassin for the government and she was well-compensated for it.  She never asked any questions only to find out years later many of the people she killed weren’t actually a threat at all, just inconvenient.  The only difference between her and Root is motivation.

But Shaw’s choices weren’t altruistic either.  She doesn’t feel things the way other people do.  She simply learned right from wrong and made a logical choice.  She loves fighting and shooting.  It’d be just as likely she’d end up dead, but less likely she’d end up in prison working for the good guys.  It wasn’t until Finch and Reese came along that she’d understood how you do matters as much as what you do.  So who was she to judge? 

Root’s almost relieved at her admission, before the enormity of what she’s done crushes her like a ton of bricks.  She knows Shaw will keep her word and she has several contingencies in place that will allow her to disappear.  But still.  Her chest’s tingling and trust and fear are engaged in a battle to the death within her.

When Shaw comes back to the room, she stands right next to the hospital bed and something in her eyes gives Root hope.  “I’m not turning you in no matter what you decide.  But if you want to stay in New York it stops now.  No more killing or working for criminals in any capacity.  We find out who’s behind your attempted murder and we stop them and we never see each other again.  If you stay and resume killing people, ** _I will_** _**end you**._ ”

Root’s heart freezes and then starts pounding like a jackhammer.  She struggles to speak, reaching for the right words, but only two matter right now.  “I’ll stay.”  Shaw gives her a hard stare.  “You better be sure Root because if you’re lying to me you’re going to wish that bullet was fatal.”

But Shaw believes her, although she has absolutely no reason to, except so far Root hasn’t lied to her.  She could’ve kept Shaw in the dark about the hacking and they’d probably be back at her place fucking instead of trapped in this pile of shit.

“I have to tell my team.”  Root squeezes her eyes shut and starts hyperventilating, the heart monitor screeching.  Shaw flicks off the deafening alarm and places her hand just under Root’s ribs.  “Just breathe from your belly.  Easy.”  Root calms down and Shaw checks to make sure she hasn’t torn her stitches wide open.

“Panic is a bit dramatic don’t you think?” Shaw asks drolly.  But Root still looks at her like a cornered animal and Shaw feels compelled to reassure her for some reason she’d rather not examine right now.  “Root, you can trust them.  But I don’t intend to reveal your more lethal endeavors anyway unless it becomes critical to the mission.  Finch especially can be kind of self-righteous.”  Understatement.

Root closes her eyes and nods.  She gave Shaw her trust and she wants them to have a chance at something more, even though it’s crazy and illogical and might land her in prison, and at least this way she’ll have more time to convince her they belong together.  “Reformed.”

“What?”

“Reformed assassin for hire.”  Shaw snorts with laughter but not unkindly.  She pushes the button on the morphine pump before Root notices.  But she figures it out when she feels a rush of pleasure and sleep starts to claim her.  Shaw sees the fear in her eyes.  “I’ll be here.”

 

* * *

 

Shaw finds Reese in the living room, Chinese take-out spread out on the dining room table.  “I told you I'm fine.”  Reese’s lip quirks minutely, which is as much of a smile as he ever allows himself.  “I was hungry Shaw.  Didn’t want the food to get cold.”  Shaw sighs but grabs the box with the dumplings just the same.  “Fine, but I’m eating all of these.”  Shaw eats the dumplings and finishes off everything Reese doesn’t eat.  Reese migrates to the couch casually, not enamored of Shaw’s eating habits.  It’s like she was raised by wolves.

“You want a ride home?”  Shaw remembers they came in his car, but someone needs to monitor Root and she told her she'd be here.  “No.”  The only threat Root poses is blowing the safe house and forcing them to find a new location.  Reese knows there’s nothing here that’ll lead back to them.  They wouldn't be able to keep the location from their guest for long anyway.  “We can take shifts.”  But Shaw’s adamant she doesn’t need help monitoring…Reese realizes he doesn’t know her name.

“Does she have a name?”  Shaw scowls at him like it’s a ridiculous question.  “Root.”  Reese knows that’s some kind of alias as sure as he’s breathing but he doesn’t push.  “You want me to call the team?”  Shaw considers waiting for the morning, but she doesn’t want to give the assassin or his boss time to cover their tracks.

“Just Finch and Joss.  Call me when you’re all there.  Oh, and please lock the door to my place.  I’m pretty sure I left it wide open.”  Reese nods and leaves quietly.

 

* * *

 

Shaw looks at her sketch, satisfied it’s an excellent reproduction of the would-be assassin’s face.  The call comes just as she’s finishing.  The first voice she hears is Finch’s whose obviously leaning into the phone speaker even though they’ve told him repeatedly they can hear him.  “Ms. Shaw, are you alright?”  Shaw rolls her eyes even though he can’t see her.  “I’m fine.”

Joss speaks up before Finch annoys Shaw to no end.  “Why was Root bleeding out on the sidewalk?”  Joss always assesses a situation calmly and identifies the critical information needed to find a solution.  No drama or recriminations until it’s done.  It’s one of the reasons they’re such good partners.  But once it’s over Joss _is_ a big fan of ‘ _I told you so_.’

Shaw explains, although she leaves out a few irrelevant, in her opinion, details. Joss knows without a doubt there’s a world of information Shaw’s not sharing.  She saw the way Shaw looked at Root.  The way they looked at each other.  Shaw may not know it but she’s already fallen. 

“Finch, I need you to check all the cameras in my neighborhood from 6:30 to 10.  You’re looking for a light blue sedan, not sure on the make. 

I’m also going to fax you a sketch of the perp.  He was clearly an amateur.  Another minute and Root would’ve been out of sight on a dark corner.  Instead he ambushes her in a well-lit courtyard.  Joss, please check with Fusco in case anyone reported the gunshot and maybe saw something.  Who knows?  We may get lucky.

John, double-check our security hasn’t been breached.  It’s possible the hit was meant to take me out and Root was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  It's extremely unlikely though.  He'd have to be blind to mistake Root for me, the area was well lit and we have completely different body types, height, and hair color.  I don’t recognize the guy, but I wouldn’t if he’s just a hired gun.  Check it out anyway. I don't want someone sneaking in the back door literally or figuratively while we're off on a wild-goose chase. 

Also, Finch take a look at our cases over the last year for anyone who might’ve been determined to find out who we are for whatever reason.  There's no shortage of reasons to want me dead.”

“Ms. Shaw, what is Root’s legal name?  Maybe the threat comes from someone close to her.”  Shaw pauses, having Finch digging around means he'll be more likely to stumble across Root's real occupation and she's not ready for that yet.  “Just focus on finding where he went.  There’ll be time enough to find out where he came from later.  Call me if you find anything.”  Shaw hangs up before anyone asks any more inconvenient questions.

 

* * *

 

She hears a sound and gets up to check on Root and finds her trying to get out of bed.  She places a hand on her shoulder and pushes her back down carefully but firmly.  “Don’t make me restrain you because I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”  Nurturing and compassion are not Shaw’s bailiwick to say the least and nothing about this situation makes her feel like making an effort.  But she doesn’t remove her hand and her grip loosens.

Root sighs.  “I hate feeling helpless.”

“Get used to it.”

Root hadn’t considered she’d need help for an extended period of time.  “Sameen, I can take care of this and myself.  You…” Shaw doesn’t let her finish before she’s rolling her eyes and shaking her head.  “No.  That guy followed you to my place, which means he knows where you live.  It’s the only way he could know where you were going. 

Unless of course my information is sitting around on your computer somewhere and he hacked you.”  Root knows even though they’ve reached a truce of sorts, the subject of her violation of Shaw’s privacy is akin to sailing in dangerous waters, in a storm, without a mast, so she quickly reassures her.

“Believe me sweetie; if the DOD, NSA, and CIA, not to mention the FBI, can't catch me, no one can and _believe_ _me_ , they’ve tried.”  But that's the crux of the problem.  Can she believe anything Root says?  "I have safe houses..."  Shaw sighs exasperatedly.  "No.  Until this is done I do the protecting and I'm not moving anywhere with you."

Root knows not to read anything into Shaw's words other than a sense of duty so she says nothing at all.  She tries to shift her position and winces in pain.  But this time Shaw holds off on the morphine.  They need to talk.

 

* * *

 

“Assume hacker number one works for me.  What’s he going to find when he goes looking?”  Root isn’t fazed by the question, although she's intrigued by the possibilities.  Is Harold Finch the rumored creator of the rumored artificial super intelligence?  But now's not the time for questions.  “Nothing.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and looks at her incredulously.  “There’s always something."

“I have no digital footprint after age 11.  He’ll find I was born in Bishop, Texas, my mother was the town drunk, and I never knew my father.  If he looks deeper into newspaper archives, for example, he’ll find my best friend was murdered by a pedophile.  I left town at 14 when my mother died and I disappeared.  That’s it.  It’s not a matter of skill; the information simply does not exist.  I’ve never even received a piece of mail.  I don't exist and no one will notice when I'm gone."  Shaw knows Root isn't throwing herself a pity party.  She's dispassionately dissecting her life and concluded she doesn't matter.  But every life matters.  Doesn't it? 

But all she says is, "that’ll raise a whole other set of suspicions, but it’s preferable to everyone knowing I’m consorting with an assassin.  You’re absolutely certain he won’t find anything?  Enough to risk our agreement blowing up in your face?  They won’t turn you in out of respect for me, but you will have to disappear.”

“Yes I’m certain and you keep forgetting.  It’s reformed.  Besides, you don't have to disappear if you don't exist to begin with,” she ends with a cocky grin.

Shaw ignores the last part.  It's not like she knows what to say.  “Yeah, well let’s give it more than a couple of hours before we put the reformed moniker to the test.  Short of _trying_ to murder me, it’s not like you’ve had the opportunity to kill anyone, which brings me to my next point.  If he’s not going to find anything you need to tell me who could’ve found you.  I’m presuming you conduct all your business anonymously, but how does someone find you if they want to contract a hit?”

“The dark web.  I can give you the twenty different layers of security that ensure anonymity.  But the gist is there’s a subtly worded text only site.  You need special software and serious programming skills to find it.  Someone leaves a public key and I respond with a time.  My keys immediately change so they can’t respond to my message.  I log in at the assigned time and we have a virtual chat never recorded anywhere.  I change the site name every five days.  All I ever ask for is the contact information and name a price.  If they agree I give them a bitcoin account that’s transferred daily into a new account.”

“You’re telling me you can keep track of all the information without writing it down anywhere?” 

“Yes.  I have a photographic memory.”  Shaw groans.  “Of course you do.”

Root sticks out her tongue playfully and Shaw smiles begrudgingly, which Root finds encouraging.

“Root, if you’re as invisible as you think, the threat has to come from someone close to you.”  Root already knows.  “There are only three people who know I exist, although not who I am specifically obviously.  To them I’m a hacker known as RT.  We met on the dark web and we’ve collaborated on several projects.  By necessity there are times when data needs to be transmitted in real time to accomplish a hack.  It’s the only time possible for some vulnerability to be exploited.  I would dismiss it out of hand, except these hackers rank in the top ten of all-time.  It’s why I picked them.”

“So how do we find them if they’re as good as you say?”

“I already know the names they use to exist in the outside world.  It’ll be difficult, but not impossible to find them.”

“So how’d you track them if they’re some of the best hackers in the world?”

“I said they were in the top 10.  I’m number three and they are seven, eight and nine.  The real question is why?  What could any of them possibly stand to gain from my death?  These guys are geniuses but they chose to contract some wannabe gangster amateur?  They’re good enough they may have found me, but they put out such a sloppy hit?”

Shaw rolls her eyes at Root’s overconfident answer.  “Don’t forget that sloppy hit almost succeeded.”

“Yes and I bet you’ll find the shooter before the night’s done.  Give me a computer and an hour, maybe less, and I’ll find him.  If it’s one of these guys, he’s already dead and there’ll be no trace of who killed him.  It’ll be a dead end.  We’ll never find them digitally.”

“Give me the names.”  Root hesitates and Shaw frowns, but is genuinely puzzled.  “Sameen, the odds all three are working together are infinitesimal, which means two of these guys are blameless.”  Root can tell Shaw’s about to argue and she knows what she’s going to say.  “Yes, I know they’re all guilty of scores of other crimes, even heinous crimes, many of which I enticed them into.  But I’ve no right to ruin their lives when I’m escaping the consequences of my own actions.”

Shaw can understand Root’s point.  But it’s all or nothing. 

Root doesn’t know it, but Shaw’s breaking all her rules to help her.  She’s lying, even if only by omission, to her partners, her friends.  The only people who’ve ever made her feel like she has a home, a family.  It’ll be something she takes to her grave and in the scheme of some of the things she’s done it’s not the worst by far, but it feels like it.  She’s giving Root a piece of herself, trusting Root won’t betray her in the end.  They’ve known each other 24 hours.  Shaw can’t fathom what it will cost her when all is said and done.

But Shaw’s not going to admit any of that to Root.  “The names.”

Root doesn’t hesitate.  She didn’t just say the words.  She trusts Shaw.  She’ll accept whatever Shaw decides.  She’s coming to understand some of the nuances that draw her to Shaw.  They believe in each other.  It’s in Shaw’s words and her actions.  Even the painful ones.     

“Jason Greenfield, Daniel Casey, and Tatsuro Daizo.  I’d put Jason at the top of the list.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“He doesn’t have any lines.”

“What the hell does that mean Root?”

“He’ll do anything for money.” 

“The same could be said about you.”

“Yes, I killed people, but only criminals killing criminals, no women, no children, and the hacks were limited to white collar crimes.  I know that doesn’t give me the moral high ground, but Jason makes my psychotic lack of remorse look like a positive attribute.”

Shaw’s stomach revolts with a sudden bolt of nausea and her throat’s burning in disgust.  “But you worked with him.”

“Only until I realized he’s a nihilist.  We all stopped working with him when he started hinting at projects involving human trafficking…of children.”

Shaw laughs, but it’s ugly and cruel.  She’s not sure she can take much more of this.  She’s made a horrific mistake by getting embroiled in Root’s life.  But she can’t walk away.  It’s bigger than them now.  “You better have a good reason why he’s still walking around Root or I swear today will be your last day on earth.”

“It took me a year to learn his name and I haven’t been able to find him.  But there are limits to what I can do outside cyberspace.  I work alone and the leg work has taken all my time, plus I suspect he moves frequently.  But it’s all I’ve been doing for the past six months.  For the three months before that I was narrowing my search and I knew I was close, so I concentrated all my efforts on finding the name.  I haven’t accepted any type of job in nine months.  Sameen, I have no evidence or proof, but I wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.  The only person who ever cared about me was killed by someone just as morally bereft as Jason.  He's not going to exist much longer.”

Root’s actions are far from noble, but at least it’s an explanation Shaw can live with and even understands.  Root could’ve told her this as soon as she revealed her true occupation, but she didn’t try to cast herself in a better light or justify her actions.  Shaw respects it.  Respects Root. 

But she still doesn’t understand how she let her libido overrule her better judgment.  Yeah for a few hours there she thought things with Root could go beyond the physical and she’d wanted to explore the connection.  But she disregarded all her training and hard earned lessons and jumped in like a schoolgirl with her first crush and instead gotten burned…badly.  For whatever reason she needs to understand why and part of the answer lies with Root.

She’s counting on Root not starting to lie now, but it hardly seems worth it at this point.  Unless there’s some underlying nefarious scheme Root’s running.  Shaw’s not ruling it out.

“Tell me why.”  Root’s not sure to what Shaw’s referring and turns it into a question with a confused look.  “Why?” 

“Why’d you let me spend the night?  Why’d you accept my dinner invitation?  Why even let me know about the phone hack?  Why tell me the truth?  You could’ve avoided all this if you just lied or even just kept it to yourself.  I would’ve never suspected anything if you didn’t pull the gimmick with the phone or showed up with my favorite scotch, or let on you knew Zoe and Joss worked with me.  We’d still be back at my place fucking instead of living through this seemingly endless nightmare.  Maybe you’d even have gotten shot on your own time instead of dragging me into your mess.”

Root’s having trouble finding the right words and bites her lip.  Shaw feels an instant desire to kiss her and it angers her Root can still affect her even after all Shaw’s learned.  After all Root’s done.  Shaw grinds her teeth and glares at her.  “The truth shouldn’t be so hard to explain Root.”

Root knows she’s hurt Shaw, perhaps unforgivably, but she’s tired of being treated like she’s the only one who played a part in this fiasco.  She clenches her jaw and speaks with forced restraint.  “Really?  If the truth’s so easy to explain, then you tell me why you spent the night or invited me to your place when you’ve never done either of those things before?  Why didn’t you just call 911 and the police after I was shot?  You could’ve been rid of me too.”  Root's eyes are tearing but her expression’s fierce.

Shaw recognizes the truth in her words, but it’s a deflection.  “You haven’t answered my question.”

A lump in Root’s throat makes it hard to speak and she swallows hard.  “I felt something with you I’d never felt before.  Something beyond lust, or desire, or the elation of the conquest.  I meant it when I said no one’s ever kissed me like you, like I mattered, like you saw inside me and I wasn’t afraid to let you and you weren’t afraid to look.  Suddenly everything else seemed gray but you’re living color. 

I’ll always regret what I did.  But I haven’t lied to you about anything and I never will.  What I know about you gave me a peek at who you are by chronicling what you’ve done.  What you know about me could end my life.”  Root holds her breath, but she figures she has nothing to lose.  “I know you felt something too.”

Shaw looks away.  “My gut told me I was safe with you.”  She feels a heaviness in her chest and she looks into Root’s eyes with a pained expression, whispering.  “But I wasn’t.”  She couldn’t have hurt Root more if she’d reached into her chest cavity and crushed her heart in her hand while she watched.  Root drops her chin to her chest, a blank look on her face. 

Root knows Shaw deflected answering her own questions, but she doesn't ask again.  She knows Shaw won't answer and she really has no right to them.

 

* * *

 

It occurs to Shaw she’s still trusting Root when she should be trying to make sure she’s telling the truth.  This could all be about something else and Root’s setting the scene to accomplish her own mission.  “I want the names of three people you’ve killed and something about each murder only the killer would know but is verifiable by police or autopsy reports.”

Root gives her the names and details.  Shaw will have to research them herself, otherwise the team will wonder about the connection. Yet something else she’ll have to keep from them.  She sighs but her phone rings before she can say anything else. 

 

* * *

 

She puts it on speaker since she’s not trying to hide anything about this mission from Root, just the team.  The bitter irony doesn’t escape her.

“Ms. Shaw how's our guest faring?”  Shaw rolls her eyes; guest wouldn’t be the word she’d use.  “She’ll live.” 

Finch is used to Shaw’s abrupt manner and moves on.  “We located the perpetrator.”

“I’m on speaker Finch.”  There are certain secrets Root will never be privy to and now he’s on notice not to speak of them. 

Finch clears his throat and hesitates before continuing.  “Mr. Reese is also here with me…It wasn’t difficult to identify the gunman once we enhanced the video from the art gallery down the street.  The license plate could be seen clearly.  I expected the car to be stolen but he used his own vehicle.  His name is Tony Boyd and he may be affiliated with the Brotherhood, but he’s fallen into the category of recently deceased.”  Root knows better than to gloat and just listens attentively. 

Reese tells them what he found.  “The place was a dump.  All the drawers were pulled out and a partially packed suitcase was lying on the bed.  The guy got two in the head and was sprawled face down on the floor.  He probably didn’t even see it coming.  It was an execution Shaw.  I called Lionel and he’ll let us know if anything relevant turns up.”

“So it’s a dead end for now Ms. Shaw and Mr. Reese didn’t find anything indicating you were the intended target.  Has Ms…uh…Root thought of anyone who may want to hurt her?  We may find a connection between a potential suspect and Mr. Boyd.”

Shaw takes a deep breath and lies.  “Yes.  Jason Greenfield, Daniel Casey, and Tatsuro Daizo.  They were working on a project with Root for her cyber-security business.  They never met in person so we have nothing but their names.  Technically they could be anywhere.”

Finch asks for Root’s legal name.  “Samantha Groves.”

“Who was the employer on the project?”  Shaw looks at Root like she expects the answer to be written on her forehead, so Root takes over. 

The next thing Shaw hears is a voice sweet as a nightshade berry and just as lethal.  It's sing-songy like a television jingle.  If Shaw weren't sitting there she could almost believe it was someone else.  "Hi Harold, thank you for helping me resolve this sticky situation.  I really appreciate it.”  They hear a little squeak and it’s obvious he’s mildly startled by the use of his first name, but doesn’t object, or comment on Root's blasé attitude towards her attempted murder.  “The employer was Decima Technologies.”

“Why would your colleagues want to kill you Ms. Groves?”

“Please Harry, call me Root. 

I don’t think they’re working together but it’s possible and Shaw believes its best we investigate all of them.”  Again it annoys Shaw Root used her last name and she frowns before she masks it with her usual stoic demeanor, but not fast enough for Root not to notice.  Why does it still bother her?  She should want as much space as possible between them.   

“The only vague suspicion I have pertains to Greenfield.  He seemed willing to go to unethical and illegal extremes during the course of the project and I fired him.”

“May I ask the nature of the project?”

"The company hired me to redesign their whole system, essentially, but I started to see weird and nonsensical gaps in their structures.  Data that doesn’t go anywhere and data coming in from somewhere outside the system.  So I started looking more closely.  It wasn’t a far leap to concluding they were involved in something illegal, but I couldn’t find anything definitive.  I refused to finish the project, reimbursed the client, and I assume they contracted someone else to finish it.”

“But what does Mr. Greenfield stand to gain from your death?”

“My guess is as good as yours Harry. Maybe revenge for kicking him off a lucrative project.  Or fear I may expose his criminal activities.  I’m just not sure; it’s a gut feeling.”

“Isn’t it possible Decima may want you dead for the same reason Ms. Groves, exposure of their criminal enterprise?”

“Anything’s possible Harry but it’s not like I uncovered any proof or conclusive evidence they were engaged in illegal activities.”

“Nonetheless I think it’s a lead worth pursuing."  Shaw can picture him nodding his head decisively.  "Is there anything you need at the safe house Ms. Shaw?”

Shaw answers predictably, “food.”

“I will have Detective Fusco or Mr. Reese bring you supplies tomorrow morning.  I’ll let you know if we find anything pertinent.”

As usual Shaw hangs up without goodbye or any indication she’s terminating the conversation.  She turns to Root an unreadable expression on her face.

 

* * *

 

“I see you can lie with the best of them when it suits you.”

Root takes a deep breath, knowing earning Shaw’s trust will be difficult and maybe even impossible.  “Other than the _nature_ of Jason’s unethical and illegal behavior it all happened exactly as I said.  It was a legitimate job.”  Root knows Shaw's emotional tether is probably about to snap, but she needs to try and make her understand.  "Sameen, I'm not sure who I am anymore.  Samantha Groves died a long time ago.  I've been hundreds of people.  But whoever I am, inside, I'm sharing only with you.  It's you I trust.  The person you just saw and heard is what the rest of the world gets." 

Shaw believes her but she’s doesn't trust her gut when it comes to Root.  Clearly it malfunctions. 

“Sameen, if you bring me my laptop I could help.”

“Aside from the risk of returning to your apartment with a hit out on you, I don’t trust you.  You could wreak all kinds of havoc before any of us noticed.  You’re not worth the risk.”  Shaw regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth.  She hurts people because she’s brutally honest and it never bothers her.  But she didn’t tell Root a painful truth.  She told her what Shaw wishes she could believe.  But she has no idea how to fix it and it just makes her angry she can’t fix it and angry it’s not true.  It would make everything so much easier.

Root hits the morphine drip as Shaw walks away.


	4. Inner Landscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root’s not sure how to navigate the minefield and studies Shaw closely, holding her eyes, not saying a word. But they’re impenetrable as a moonless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short chapter to move things along. I expect to wrap it up in two more chapters. Thanks for your support and your patience through the rewrite!

Shaw’s always maintained strict control over her words, choosing carefully what she’s willing to share, and with whom.  It’s never been difficult to tune out everyone else’s noise and avoid unnecessary drama.  But in 24 hours Root has triggered emotions and reactions Shaw’s never before experienced.

But despite her introverted and uncommunicative nature, Shaw has deep insight into her inner mental landscape.  She felt safe with Root; she made Shaw want to feel connected.  Shaw’s always been a good judge of character, able to size up a situation quickly and act accordingly.  Part of her anger with Root is the feeling of being conned. 

But she felt something dangerous in Root from the moment they met and it was part of the attraction.  Even their chemistry felt dangerous, but she deliberately ignored it.   Root overcame her innate sense of unease and wariness effortlessly. 

Shaw knows what she saw in Root’s eyes and what she felt in her touch was real.  Maybe there’s another reason she feels so betrayed.  She suspected Root hacked her phone before she left her apartment and it didn’t bother her.  The rest of the hacking was merely a matter of degrees.

Something about the ‘date’ tonight pushed her over the edge and triggered her defense mechanisms.  It started with her reaction to Zoe and Joss showing up.  She didn’t want to share Root with them.  She felt possessive and protective at the same time.  They also highlighted the significance of letting Root into her home.

Then there was the balcony.  The silence was comfortable and Root’s presence in it felt natural, like she’d always been there.  She let Shaw be alone with her thoughts, just offering her comforting presence.  Shaw remembers thinking Root read her like the book on her nightstand.  She saw more of Shaw than Shaw intended and she felt exposed.  Vulnerable.  Root made her want to close the distance between them and connect, emotionally and mentally.  That’s what Shaw couldn’t face.

 

* * *

 

She rubs her hand over her face and sighs.  What now?

She decides to check on Root and maybe apologize, but she’s asleep, her finger on the morphine button.  It’s probably for the best, Shaw’s more of an action person anyway.  Something occurs to her and she calls Joss.

“Hey Shaw, everything okay?”

“Yeah.  I just need a favor.”  If Joss were Zoe she’d have gasped and squealed and teased Shaw to no end.  Because Shaw did not ask for favors.  Ever.

“Can you drop off one of Finch’s souped up laptops here on your way home?”

“Sure.  I was heading out now.  Not much to do until the Machine or Finch turn something up on one of the suspects or Fusco finds some connection between the hit man and Root.  I’ll be there in about 20.”  If Joss needed any further confirmation of Shaw’s feelings for Root, this would do it.  Shaw asking for a favor?  For someone else?  It’s certainly not for Shaw.  She’s more skilled than she lets on, but the tech side of things just doesn’t interest her.  That’s why she hired Finch.

“Thanks.”

When Joss gets to the safe house, Shaw’s waiting outside.  She’s standing under a streetlight, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.  She steps out between two parked cars, both of which have been ticketed.  The only sound is the beep beep of a garbage truck backing up.  It’s a quiet neighborhood without much traffic, which is one of the reasons they chose it.

Its obvious Shaw doesn’t want her to get down.  Joss lowers the window and hands her the laptop.  “How’s Root?”

“As well as can be expected with a bullet wound in her chest.  But she has quite a high tolerance for pain.”  Joss can hear the admiration in Shaw’s voice, but doesn’t comment.  Again, because she’s not Zoe. 

Shaw steps back, tucking the laptop under her arm.  She gestures awkwardly towards Joss, “Uh…thanks again.”

“No problem.  Call me if you need anything.”  She rolls up the window and drives away, smiling to herself.

 

* * *

 

Shaw tries to watch some television until she realizes she’s been watching an infomercial for penile implants for an hour.  She thinks about having a snack, but finds she’s lost her appetite.  When she ends up pacing, she finally gives in and goes to check on Root again.

She’s muttering in her sleep, probably a side effect from the morphine.  It’s not common, but Shaw’s beginning to understand things with Root are never normal.  Her sweaty hair is matted to her face and her skin feels clammy to Shaw’s touch, although her pulse is steady.  Shaw’s hand lingers as she checks for fever, her thumb gently rubbing Root’s forehead.  Root’s muttering trails off.

Shaw double checks her vitals and wound, wrinkling her brow at the slightly elevated blood pressure.  She adjusts the hospital bed to a more comfortable angle and realizes she’s fussing when she catches herself adjusting Root’s pillow.  She knows she’s hovering because she wants to be near Root.

She drops into the chair for a minute to watch Root breathe, but exhaustion overcomes her and she falls asleep. 

Root wakes groggily, pulling herself out of the morphine induced slumber.  Her mouth’s dry and she’s very thirsty.  She’s not sure if she’s surprised to see Shaw slumped into the semi-lounger chair next to the bed or whether it means anything to Shaw.

The hum of the bed as she tries to shift into a more comfortable position echoes in the room and when she looks up, Shaw’s eyes are open.  They study each other for a minute.  Root feels the heat of Shaw’s skin as she hands Root an icy glass of water.  “You must be thirsty.”  Root nods her thanks but when she reaches for the glass Shaw doesn’t let go for a few seconds, her fingers brushing Root’s.

Root’s not sure how to navigate the minefield and studies Shaw closely, holding her eyes, not saying a word.  But they’re impenetrable as a moonless night.  The tray table swings in front of her and Shaw adjusts the height so she can type comfortably on the laptop.

It’s not hers but when the linux operating systems boots and Metasploit and OWASP-Zed appear in her directory search, her eyes light up.  Finch must have put the system together.  She smiles widely and Shaw sees the mischievous smile she tries to hide behind her hand.  She feels a lightening of the pressure in her chest which plagued her since she left Root earlier.

“Thank you Sameen.”  Root knows Shaw’s trying to apologize for earlier and also tell Root she trusts her in some fashion.  She doesn’t need to say it.  Root’s perfectly happy with the message.

“It’s getting late and I’m going to try and grab some sleep.  Do you need anything before I crash?”  Root smiles softly.  “No, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m a light sleeper so just call out if you need anything.”  Root smiles softly and nods her head.


	5. Futile Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems to Shaw Root’s been listening with her entire body. She wasn’t thinking about anything else or anticipating what she might say to Shaw in response. Just absorbing everything Shaw said. Shaw’d never seen anyone listen that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I blatantly lifted the first half of the finding Greenfield plot from the Contingency episode. But why reinvent the wheel? It deviates from this point forward since they're only going to Hoboken and not Texas.
> 
> The next chapter's the end. I might be posting it tonight, but don't hold me to it.

Shaw wakes early after a restless sleep, the sheets tangled with her legs.  She definitely slept better the night before. She yawns deeply, stretching her arms, and the gentle cricking of bones in her neck reminds her she hasn’t gone for a run or worked out for a couple of days. 

The only sound is the gentle hum of the air conditioner and a dog barking outside.  She peeks through a slot in the blinds to make sure the dog barking isn’t alerting them to some danger.  Everything looks normal and the glare in her eyes from the rising sun tells her its perfect weather for a jog.

Root’s still asleep; eyelids closed against the dim light of dawn, her breathing deep and easy.  Shaw watches her breasts rise and fall with each intake of air, the muscles in her face relaxed with an almost innocent look.  Shaw knows Root’s anything but innocent, but right now she’s hurt and needs someone to watch her back.  Root doesn’t have anyone who cares about what happens to her.  No one willing to risk their lives protecting her.  Except Shaw.  Because Shaw does the protecting.  It’s not the only reason she’s the logical choice to take care of Root, but it’s enough for now.

She decides to go for a short jog before Root wakes up to clear her head and relax her muscles.  The sunlight gleams off the windows of the houses, but the sidewalk is damp from an earlier rain and puddles litter her path.  She runs right through them, dirty drops splashing her legs as she maintains her steady pace.  She draws in a deep, clean breath and stills her mind, focusing only on her breathing and the stretch in her muscles with each pounding step.

She circles back after a mile and a half or so, limiting the distance to just three miles.  She doesn’t want to be gone too long and give Root time to decide she’s well enough to take care of herself.  Shaw wouldn’t be surprised to find her on the floor, with torn stitches, and a chagrined smile on her face.  She sprints the last half mile and tells herself it’s just sprint training, but it’s certainly the fastest time she’s ever logged.

Root’s still dead to the world so Shaw clears the coffee table in the living room to do her post run stretch.  It’s a combination of yoga and tai-chi she picked up during an extensive posting in Shanghai.  The slow, rhythmic, and meditative movements contribute to her fitness both physically, increased strength and flexibility, and tolerance to pain, and mentally to her clarity and decisiveness during a crisis.  It’s also sexy as hell and if Root were in the room she’d be salivating.

She grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator and the sudden chill makes her shiver.  Root must he enjoying the high of the morphine because she’s still sleeping, but at least it gives her time to shower.  Normally she likes them scalding, but lukewarm water helps her cool down after a run or workout, so she endures it.  She takes the time to put her hair up in her trademark ponytail and throw on some clothes.

 

* * *

 

Root’s awake and in pretty good spirits considering.  “Good morning sweetie.”  Shaw gives her a barely perceptible smile and busies herself checking vitals.  “I’m going to change your dressing today so I can get a good look at the wound and make sure it’s not showing signs of infection.  I think you can probably start walking short distances and going to the bathroom, but _not_ by yourself.  I’ll also remove the IV and you can have real food.  Or at least what passes for real food in John’s world.”

“I love it when you play doctor,” Root grins.  Shaw rolls her eyes and scowls.  “Good, because my help is strictly clinical.”  Root pouts, but doesn’t say anything else.

Shaw removes all the needles and equipment tethering Root to the machines and helps her sit up and then stand slowly.  Root sways a little, but Shaw’s firm grip keeps her steady.  “Uh Sam, I’m not hitting on you, but I really need a shower.”  Shaw doesn’t disagree, Root smells a little rank, but she knows her clinical detachment will not survive running her hands over Root’s naked body during a sponge bath.  But she’s nothing if not resourceful.

Still she sighs and frowns for effect lest Root think she’s perving on her.  “Okay, I’m going to place a waterproof bandage over your dressing and fill the tub partway.  I’ll help you in and you can take a bath and wash your hair with the spray hose.  It doesn’t mean you should get water on your dressing so _be careful_.”

Root represses a sly smile.  Shaw doesn’t mention she’s going to have to help Root undress.  “Hold onto the sink while I fill the tub and _don’t move_.”  She remembers Root likes her water warm, not hot, and then kicks herself for even remembering in the first place or thinking it matters.

Now for the moment Shaw’s been dreading; she decides to get it over with as quickly as possible.  “Okay turn around so I can help you with your gown.”  Root turns and Shaw undoes the snaps.  Root lets one arm fall and then the other until she’s naked.  “Alright, let’s get you into the tub.”  Root turns to face Shaw again and Shaw swears she brushes against her breasts with her back deliberately. 

Fuck!  Now a naked Root’s facing her and Shaw’s determined to keep her eyes focused on her face.  Root stumbles a bit on her second step and Shaw has no choice but to brace her with her body.  Root winces in pain, which is the only reason Shaw gives her the benefit of the doubt she didn’t do it on purpose. 

Their bodies are pressed together and Shaw inhales sharply and she knows her pupils are dilating with craving.  Now it’s lose/lose.  Let Root see the desire in her eyes or look at her naked body, which will have the same effect but Root won’t be able to see it. 

Root’s thinking a little pain is totally worth it to have her naked body pressed against Shaw.  She’s not sure whether she did it on purpose or just stumbled, but it hardly matters.

Shaw fixes her gaze on Root’s feet and takes a step back to guide her closer to the tub.  But she didn’t count on her heart racing and Root feels it momentarily before Shaw takes the step.  Shaw ignores it and keeps her eyes on Root’s feet, calming her breathing.  Or trying to anyway.

Now they’re at the tub and Shaw needs to slip behind Root to help her step inside, which will be a full contact sport.  Shaw takes a deep breath and resolves to get through it as quickly as possible.  She braces Root against her body and wraps an arm around her, just below her ribs.  Her other hand supports Root’s thigh while she steps in one leg at a time. 

Now Shaw has to help guide her to a sitting position.  So she places her arms under Root’s armpits while she bears the weight with her biceps.  Inevitably her hands brush Root’s breasts and she feels her nipples harden under her fingers.  Root moans softly and the sound causes wetness to pool between Shaw’s legs.  She almost drops Root the rest of the way but catches herself just in time.

Once Root’s settled Shaw turns away immediately and clears her throat.  “I’ll be outside, let me know when you’re done.”

 

* * *

 

Shaw sags into the chair by the hospital bed and tries to get her libido under control.  It’s not working.  She needs to get off or she’s not going to be able to keep her hands off Root’s body.  But she can’t leave the room in case Root hurts herself.

Whatever, she has no problem keeping quiet during climax, especially those she gives herself.  She takes off her pants and underwear, it’s not like Root can catch her anyway.  She’s so wet, no warm up is necessary.  She lifts her leg for better access and props her foot on the chair.

She starts stroking her clit diagonally and slips the fingers of her other hand inside.  Two are perfect and she finds her g-spot and rubs softly.  She thinks about Root’s legs wrapped around her waist, her soft moans, and the way she called Shaw’s name while Shaw fucked her slowly.  It doesn’t take long and Shaw’s coming hard.  A hard groan escapes her mouth but she’s too caught up in her pleasure to notice.  Her orgasms during masturbation are generally satisfying in a take the edge off kind of way, but this one is intense.

The bathroom door’s about one-third open, the house is quiet, and the chair Shaw’s using sits right outside the door.  Root hears Shaw’s low gasps and knows exactly what she’s doing.  She’s not as quiet as she thinks.  Root gets wet just thinking about the last time she was in the shower with Shaw.  Shaw on her knees, exploring Root’s body with her mouth, the shower raining over them.  Her wound doesn’t let her masturbate with her fingers or vigorously, but shower wands are multi-purpose and Root takes full advantage.

She places the shower head directly on top of her clit with the water pressure on low.  Her pleasure builds slowly until she increases the water flow, then it starts racing towards her.  She thinks about Shaw masturbating right outside the door and fucking Shaw against the wall, her hands inside her, Shaw coming, jerking and arching into her.  It’s all it takes and an intense orgasm racks her body. 

Root’s not particularly quiet during climax and she’s not exactly trying to be quiet now, but she wants to entice Shaw not give her the full effect.  So she lets the water splash a little and cuts off a low throaty moan.  Just long enough for Shaw to know what she’s doing, but short enough she doesn’t think Root’s trying to let her hear.

WTF!  Shaw knows what she just heard and what it means.  If she can hear Root’s low sounds, then Root definitely heard her.  The harsh breathing, the low groan she just remembers escaped her mouth.  The thought of masturbating at the same time with only the door between them winds Shaw up again and she exhales sharply.  So much for taking the edge off.

Shaw gets dressed and Root’s finished a few minutes later.  Shaw takes a deep breath and steps into the bathroom, her face impassive.  She sits on the edge of the tub, affecting indifference to Root’s nakedness.  But she bends over and feels the heat of Root’s body and the scent of her skin and inhales deeply before she can stifle the impulse.

Root pretends not to hear, but Shaw’s not done yet.  This time she lets her fingers deliberately brush Root’s nipple and her hands linger on her body more than necessary, and she stands close so they’re pressed together when Root steps out of the tub.

Shaw knows Root let her hear on purpose and two can play this game.  Root smiles when Shaw’s at her back.  There’s no downside to this game for her.  Either Shaw succumbs to her desire and Root wins or she continues enjoy the way she affects Shaw.   Shaw brings her one of Reese’s shirts and sweatpants.  He’s taller than Shaw so his clothes fit Root better, although her slender frame leaves them hanging baggily.  Shaw wants to know why the fuck Root looks sexy and desirable no matter what she’s wearing or not wearing! 

 

* * *

 

“Sam do you think you can help me to the couch?  My muscles are cramped from lying in the same position and I can work on the laptop more comfortably there.” 

Shaw’s just settled Root on the couch when there’s a knock at the door.  She hopes its Reese with supplies and not Fusco who has the pallet of a five-year old.  They all have keys but make it a point to knock when someone’s there so no one gets startled and starts shooting.  It happened once with Shaw almost shooting Fusco and only her lightening reflexes averted a premature death.

She grabs a gun and sidesteps the door.  “Open the door Shaw it’s just me.”  Reese walks in with his hands full with three bags.  Shaw practically snatches them out of his hand, somehow picking the two with the food.  He takes it in stride and joins Root on the couch.  “Hi John.” Reese nods his greeting and hands her the last bag.

She looks inside curiously and finds clothes in her size and more to her style.  “Thanks!  I really appreciate it, but just curious, how’d you know my size?”  Shaw hears the question from the kitchen and knows what’s Reese going to say, but it’s not like they can tell her the truth.  The Machine knew.  “Shaw has a good eye for that sort of thing,” Reese deadpans. 

Shaw’s facing the stove and rolls her eyes.  Root’s going to attach way to much significance to it.  But Root doesn’t say anything but thanks to Reese.

Reese notices the laptop.  Finch has been unable to find anything on Root other than her early childhood.  Nothing.  Not a trace anywhere.  More telling, even the Machine can’t find anything.  The only answer is Root’s lived completely off the grid since she was 14.  Considering her cyber-security business and the nature of today’s world, Reese can’t see how it’s possible.

Something doesn’t add up about Root.  But Reese is confident Shaw knows.  He trusts her implicitly, but there’s a little part of him that’s concerned Shaw’s feelings may be clouding her judgment.  It’s obvious she has them.  It’s also obvious there’s some tension between the two.

Shaw comes out of the kitchen with omelets, toast, and coffee for her and Root. Reese quirks his lip.  “Get your own food.  You’re not trapped here.”  He stands up completely unfazed by Shaw’s attitude.  “Call me if you need anything and I’ll let you know if something turns up.”  Shaw just nods because her mouth’s already stuffed with food and Reese turns away quickly.  Watching Shaw eat always leaves him a bit nauseous.

Meanwhile Root’s staring at Shaw eat, still fascinated.  “What I’d tell you about watching me eat?” 

“Nothing actually.  You asked me ‘Are you going to make staring at me eat a habit?’ and I said ‘it depends’ and ultimately answered ‘yes’.”  Shaw keeps forgetting about Root’s memory.  “Fine, then for the record, stop staring, you’re creeping me out.”

Root smiles enigmatically and digs into her food.  Shaw did not disappoint.  The eggs are perfectly cooked and vegetables are tender but not soggy.  When she finally wins Shaw over she’s going to get her to cook.  A lot.  After the laptop and the bathroom she’s convinced there’s something between them Shaw won’t be able to ignore indefinitely.  She’s patient.  She’ll wait.

“Thanks Sam, sorry I can’t help.”  Shaw shrugs.  “Its fine, I don’t mind.”  She didn’t mean to say the last part but her brain keeps disobeying her.  So does her body.  She’s starting to feel she’s fighting a losing battle.

 

* * *

 

Root goes back to the computer and Shaw flicks on the tv, settling on the Equalizer.  Root wonders if Shaw sees the irony.

“Shaw I think I found something.”  Shaw looks over, disgruntled again by Root’s use of her last name.  She thought they’d gotten past it.  “What?” 

It hasn’t escaped Root Shaw frowns every time she calls her by her last name, starting with the first time in her apartment in front of Joss and Zoe.  Now she’s doing it on purpose.  Maybe it will help Shaw realize she feels something or snap and ask Root to stop calling her Shaw.  Either one might lead to a real conversation about them.

“A New York driver’s license was just issued to Jason Greenfield in Bergen County, NJ.  A real one.  At an actual DMV office.”

It takes Shaw just a few seconds to make the connections.  “So he had to bribe an employee at the office to issue it off the books, but still be legit in the system.”  Root can’t help but smile a little.  It’s their first concrete lead.

Shaw calls Carter.  “Joss we have a lead on one of our suspects.  He was just issued a license in NJ.  I’ll send you the address of the office.  We need to find who he bribed at the DMV.  It might lead us to him or at least hint where he might be heading or what he might be up to.”

“Okay, I’ll take John and we’ll let you know what we find.”

Shaw looks at Root with a begrudging smile.  “I’m impressed.  Finch hasn’t turned up anything.”  Then again Finch is focused on hacking Root, not finding Greenfield.  But even more impressive, the Machine wasn’t able to find anything either.  Of course she won’t tell Root.

Root gives a sad frown.  “I’ve been doing this a long time.”  Shaw’s puzzled by Root’s comment.  Why the sadness?  She thought Root would be smug or at least pleased with herself.  Whenever she thinks she finally has Root pegged, she gets an insight telling her she might have it all wrong.  Who is this woman?

When Shaw has a question she asks it.  Even now when she suspects she’s opening a can of worms.  “Why does it make you sad?”

 

* * *

 

Root turns her head slowly to face Shaw, whose looking at her with open curiosity.  Like she really wants to know or understand.  She takes a deep breath.  She knows she’s either all in or Shaw will eventually disappear from life.  She wants truth and honesty from Root.  

Root’s already jumped through the looking glass, so what are a few more layers of the armor she’s used to protect herself her entire life? 

“I grew up surrounded by dumb, selfish, and cruel people.  So I took refuge in computers.  I could understand their code, not just the bits necessary to create programs, but also the way they functioned.  Rational by design.  Beautiful. 

So I started to see the world a little differently.  I realized it’s not humanity’s fault.  All the evil things we do.  No one designed us.  We’re just an accident.  Bad code.  The human race stalled out and it needs a reboot.” 

Root laughs humorlessly.  “My mother always said to follow my talents.  Turns out I’m brilliant at designing code to accomplish whatever I choose.”

Before Shaw can say anything, her phone rings.  She puts it on speaker so she doesn’t have to repeat everything when she hangs up.  “Yea, Carter.  What’ve you got?”  

“Possible lead.  The guy who sold Greenfield his license is a guy named Owen Reynolds.  No sign of him, but I got his mail.  Mostly junk, but there’s an overdue bill for a storage unit, Broad Street and Pearl.  John and I are headed there now.”  

“Thanks Joss.  Keep me posted.”

 

* * *

 

She looks at Root and knows she can walk away from the conversation they were just having, but she realizes she wants to share something real about herself.  Something fundamental to show Root’s she’s not just asking for one-way disclosure or truth or honesty or whatever it is she wants from Root.  There’s no point continuing to tell herself she doesn’t want her, because she does.

“When I was five, my father and I were in a car accident.  He was killed and rescue workers had a hard time getting me out of the car.  I asked one of them for a sandwich.  I realized by the reaction on his face I'd said something wrong.  That there was something wrong with me.  I knew my father dying was a bad thing, but I didn’t _feel_ it.

I thought my lack of emotion would be an asset.  So I tried medical school, but they told me my lack of empathy meant I’d never be a doctor even though I was a technically brilliant surgeon.  So I enlisted in the Marines and learned I was better at killing people than fixing them.” 

It seems to Shaw Root’s been listening with her entire body.  She wasn’t thinking about anything else or anticipating what she might say in response.  Just absorbing everything.  Shaw’d never seen anyone listen that way. 

The look on Root’s face lacks judgment or pity or even empathy.  It’s just understanding and maybe a little honored Shaw chose to share something so personal with her.  She doesn’t say anything and they just sit for awhile in comfortable silence until Shaw’s phone rings again.

 

* * *

 

“He’s dead Shaw.  He obviously saw Greenfield’s face so he had to go.”  

Reese isn’t surprised to hear Root on speaker.  “John, Greenfield had to have paid Reynolds upfront.  Did you find a laptop?  Following the money might let us pick up the trail.”

“Yeah.  There’s nothing else to do here, so we’ll head over.”   

Root can’t bring herself to keep poking Shaw with her name after everything they just shared.  “Sameen can you help me get up?”  She gestures to the bathroom with her head.  Shaw helps her and waits outside the door in case Root falls or something.  They make it back to the couch just as Carter and Reese arrive.

Carter studies the look on Shaw’s face as she helps Root sit down and how near she sits even though there’s plenty of room.  “Shaw, Zoe’s been texting non-stop wanting to know what’s going on.  I gave her the basics.” 

Shaw raises her eyebrows and rolls her eyes.  “Her skill set’s not needed right now.  I don’t need her hovering around, being dramatic.”  Carter suspects Shaw also doesn’t want someone hovering around her and Root.  Especially Zoe. 

Root’s been absorbed with the laptop ever since Reese handed it to her.  She looks up and sighs in frustration.  “I didn’t really expect it to be easy, but he paid Reynolds with Reynolds’s money.  He installed a real-time screen monitor to hack his account.  There's nothing to trace.  It's a loop.” 

She gets a faraway look in her eyes and starts typing furiously.  A few minutes later she looks up triumphantly.  “Sometimes it’s the little things that trip us up.  Jason only routed his IP address through a few servers probably thinking it was enough to stymie law enforcement.  But I was able to track it to the source.  He was in Hoboken.  Probably an internet café or a place with free wi-fi.”

Reese gets up quickly.  “Let’s go Carter.  He has a few hours head start.”  They leave quickly and normally Shaw would be kicking and screaming at being left out of the action, but she’s not trusting Root’s safety to anyone else.


	6. The Truth Unraveled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fine. But just remember I told you so when all this goes pear-shaped.” Root’s smile is ridiculously happy and Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head. But she’s smiling too. Just not as ridiculously.

“Sameen I left an important detail out about the trace.”

Shaw shakes her head and scowls.  “Of course.  I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“Cut it out Shaw!”  Her head snaps towards Root.  She sounds angry and it’s not a tone Shaw’s heard at all, much less directed at her.

“I’m telling you two minutes after the team left so you can decide how you want to play it.  Jason’s trail _was_ too easy.  He implanted a worm within a worm to hack me while I thought I was hacking him.  I let him find me.

So if you want to call the team back, do it.  They’ll be back here in 10 minutes.  5 if John’s driving.  It’ll take Jason a minimum of 30 minutes, more realistically 45 to an hour to get here.  No harm, no foul.  I only trust you Sameen.  I wanted you to decide what to do next.”

Shaw can’t help but laugh.  “I guess you weren’t as out of it as I thought on the ride over here.”  Root smiles with her eyes, the one Shaw’s noticed she reserves for her.  “I remember feeling I was on a roller coaster as it shoots straight up at maximum speed before the plunge.”  She turns away shyly, “But I felt safe too.”

Shaw’s not really annoyed once Root explains.  Their deal only requires her to be honest with Shaw.  If she decides to leave or Shaw decides she should, then it’s important to remain as anonymous as possible.

“I’m not going to call the team back because too many people may raise Greenfield’s suspicion and we’ll be stuck here waiting for him until he decides to make his move.  I’d rather have him moving quickly and not thinking things through.  Like realizing it was too easy to trace you.  But I will call them to wait at the office instead.”  Root waits while she makes the call.

“Carter.  There’s been a development.  Forget Hoboken and head to the office.  I’ll let you know when I need the team.”  Shaw hangs up before Carter can ask questions she has no intention of answering.”

Root picks up where they left off.  “It’ll never occur to Jason he’s been out-hacked.  He’s full of himself and convinced he’s the better hacker.  I never saw a reason to disabuse him of the notion.  I had a sneaking suspicion it might come in handy some day.”

 

* * *

 

Shaw steps out of the room and comes back a minute later with several guns.  “May I please have a gun now?”

“I presume you can fire it without killing me?”

“Of course sweetie.”  Shaw hands her one reluctantly.  “Can I have a second one, please?”

“Two guns at once? That's kinda lame.”  Root smiles enigmatically but doesn’t comment.

 

* * *

 

Shaw hears a clanging noise outside and grabs her gun.  “Stay here.  We can’t afford for him to set up an ambush while we wait like sitting ducks.”  She peeks quickly through the kitchen window.  No one’s there, but she doesn’t have an angle down to the garbage cans. 

She unlocks the kitchen door slowly and darts out suddenly, but no one’s there.  She circles the perimeter but doesn’t find anything out of place.  As she turns back to the house she notices the bathroom window’s open and a ladder lying on the floor underneath.  She left it open to let out some steam after her shower this morning.  But the ladder shouldn’t be there.  They store it in the shed.

If Greenfield went in through the window, he’ll be approaching Root from the back.  If he shoots without warning she won’t stand a chance.  Shaw feels like she’s been punched in the gut but keeps moving.

She hears three pops spaced evenly apart and sprints back inside.  It’s probably Root firing the .9mm Shaw gave her, but nothing says Greenfield can’t be using one too.  It occurs to Shaw she didn’t specifically tell Root not to kill him.

She stops at the threshold from the kitchen to the living room.  She’s not a novice.  There’s no point in rushing in and potentially giving Greenfield the upper hand. 

“It’s okay Sam, everything’s under control.”  Greenfield’s lying on the floor and Shaw approaches him warily.  “I didn’t kill him Sameen.”  She releases the breath she’s been holding.  A dead body would bring an entirely different set of problems.

She kicks his gun out of reach just in case he gets the stupid idea of lunging at it, noting it’s not a .9mm.  He’s on his side in the fetal position clutching his knee.  She can see a second bullet wound which most likely shattered his fibula as well.

She walks over to Root nonchalantly, running her eyes over her body until she’s satisfied she’s not hurt. 

“I heard three shots.  You missed.”  Root sticks out her tongue.  “Sorry to disappoint, but no.  The first shot hit his gun and disarmed him.”  Shaw huffs a laugh and she looks into Root’s eyes for a prolonged moment, letting Root see pupils she knows are dilated.  It’s kind of hot Root’s such a good shot. 

 

* * *

 

Greenfield is moaning, but Shaw knows he’ll be out in 20 minutes give or take once the adrenaline wears off.  Root begins the questioning before she can say a word.

“So Jason, I think you better explain yourself or my friend over here might step on your knee or your leg.  We’ll revive you and start all over again.  You’d be surprised the amount of pain your body can tolerate before you lose consciousness.”

He starts talking quickly, panting from the pain.  “The Decima project.”  Root raises her eyebrows and Shaw leans towards him.  “They offered me millions to continue working on the project in exchange for handling one small matter.  Killing you.  They knew you had suspicions and they couldn’t take any risks, but they couldn’t find you.  I’ve been tracking you for over a year.”

“How did you find me?”  Jason looks smug for a second until Shaw raises her eyebrow.  “The last hit you accepted.  It was me.  I knew you’d have to get in close given the reclusive nature of the mob guy.  But even if you were extremely patient, a sniper has a limited range.  So I watched and I waited.”

Root smiles.  “But you never saw me. I rarely shoot people Jason and I never get close.  There’s always another way.  A discreet way.”

Greenfield spots Shaw’s look and swallows the insult on his lips.  “Suddenly the guy dies under my nose and the coroner can’t find a cause of death.  It took me months.  I hacked everyone who had access to the house in any way and looked for an anomaly.  From the mailman to the neighbors dog.  It wasn’t until I learned quite coincidentally he used an insulin pump that I got a kernel of an idea.

The pump.  But how to get an undetectable poison into the pump?  I knew you didn’t kill indiscriminately, so how did you ensure the poisoned pump was picked up by the bodyguard and only the bodyguard?  But it let me narrow my focus.  He was the vehicle you used to deliver the lethal toxin, but I couldn’t find anyone suspicious on the pharmacy cameras, so he was the key. 

Eventually I found the traffic report of the fender bender.  It made sense you’d swapped the pumps while he was distracted.  So I hacked every camera in the vicinity of the crash.  All I found was a blurry profile.  I hacked the NSA’s facial recognition software.  It found hundreds of possible matches but most often in Manhattan.  So I let myself surface.

I couldn’t be certain you were looking for me, but I figured it was a pretty good bet when you refused to join me…" he looks at both of them and realizes mentioning child pornography and trafficking would likely get him killed sooner rather than later "…on my project.”

They both look at him with disgust, but say nothing.

I was one of three people who knew of your existence.  I knew if someone tried to hurt you, you’d start looking for us and most probably me.  I never expected the clumsy attempt to succeed.  It was a way to get your attention and start you on the path to finding me.”

Shaw steps on his leg and he howls with pain, breaking out in a sweat, and passing out. 

 

* * *

 

“Sam, we weren’t finished.”

“I know, but I wanted to talk with you without having to drag you to another room.  He’s leaving the most important thing out.”  Root knows what she’s getting at before she speaks.

“How he found my specific location, either my apartment or your place.  But I’m pretty sure I know the answer.  He narrowed the parameters of the facial recognition software to Manhattan and eliminated the matches one by one.  Then he found one with absolutely no digital footprint.  Pretty high odds he’d found me, which means he found a clear picture.  From there it was child’s play.  But what I really want to know is why the sloppy hit?  Why come here today in person?  Why not wait until I was out on the street?” 

Shaw’s pretty sure she knows the answer.  “Hubris.  He wanted to see the look in your eyes when you realized he’d ‘out hacked’ you.  He wanted you to know he was responsible for your death.

But what is Decima working on that they would allow one of the world’s best hackers to continue working on the project even though they were compromised, at least to some extent?  Why go to such extremes to find a ghost that at best suspected some illegality?”

Root shrugs her shoulders, but she has an idea.  “Let’s ask him.”

 

* * *

 

 

Smelling salts jolt Greenfield into awareness, but of course do nothing for the pain.  The look on Shaw’s face scares him and he immediately starts begging.  Shaw grabs him by his shirt and lifts his upper body off the floor.  “Stop whining.  I’m going to ask you one question.  You better tell me the truth or the pain you’re feeling now will seem like a twisted ankle by comparison.”  He nods eagerly and Shaw stares at him for a moment longer.  “What is Decima working on?” 

“An artificial super intelligence.”  Only Shaw’s nerves of steel keep her from reacting.  The implications someone else might succeed are unfathomable and not in a good way.  Shaw’s not sure what do with this information but Root does.

“Who’s the programmer?”

“Arthur Claypool.  He’s using case based reasoning to try to teach the AI.  But he’s not making any progress and even he believes he’s years away from a breakthrough.  Even if they manage to achieve some level of awareness, a chip powerful enough to run it on any significant scale doesn’t exist.  Even the existing supercomputer isn’t fast enough to process at the speeds required to make any such ‘intelligence’ useful.” 

Shaw and Root have heard enough, but for different reasons.  Shaw kicks Greenfield in the head, knocking him out again.

She doesn't look at Root, but tells her “I’m going to call John to deal with our friend here.”

When John arrives, he looks at an unconscious Greenfield and two very uncomfortable women.  He bends down to check Greenfield's pulse and Shaw snaps at him.  "He's alive.  But we may not be done with him.  Just find somewhere to put him where he can't cause any trouble.  We'll discuss it tomorrow at the office."  Reese nods once and hefts Greenfield up in a fireman's carry. 

She doesn’t look at Root even after John leaves with Greenfield. 

 

* * *

 

“Sameen…”

But Shaw cuts her off.  “I’ll take you to one of your safe houses and you can setup somewhere else when you recover.  There’s no way to know how much Greenfield’s relayed back to Decima.”

“Sameen look at me.”  For once the silence between them feels suffocating.  Shaw starts to leave the room.  “Sameen I know about Finch.” 

Shaw stops dead in her tracks and looks at her.  Root can feel the threat emanating from her eyes and she’s a little afraid, but determined.  The truth is the only way they’ll ever have a chance.  “What do you mean Root?” 

“I know Harold built the world’s first ASI and I suspect he uses it to help you with your work.”  Root expected anger or disbelief, but she never imagined the absolute fury exploding from Shaw’s body.  “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!  You hacked from Finch’s computer somehow!”  She looks at Root savagely.  “I’m going to kill you.”  Root almost believes her.  She lets Shaw rage until she finally slumps into the arm chair, breathing hard, and face flushed with…hate. 

Root’s scared, not of Shaw’s fury, but of her inability to convince Shaw she’s wrong about her.  She latches on to the hope hate is just the other side of passion, but her absolute belief they belong together takes a blow.  

“Sameen…”

“It’s Shaw,” Shaw spits out viciously.  But at least she’s engaging which gives Root a tiny sliver of hope she may be able to salvage this situation.  She’s definitely not going down without a fight.

“Sam, I didn’t violate your privacy or your team’s in any way, shape or form.”  Shaw looks at her with a sarcastic smile.  “Sure.”

“Sameen, please let me explain, even if only so you can assess any threat I may pose.”  Shaw takes a deep breath and looks into Root’s eyes, but they’re masked and Root has no idea what she’s thinking.  Well, other than regretting Root ever came into her life.  “There’s nothing you can say that won’t end with you in a body bag.  But if explaining is your dying wish, then by all means, explain.”

Root knows she should protect herself, her heart not her body, but she deliberately lowers every wall she has to let Shaw see everything in her eyes.  “There’s been a rumor for years circulating in the hacker community one of us succeeded in programming the first ASI.  The prevailing assumption concluded it was the government.  It made sense because they have unlimited resources and the military applications are endless.

So a group of hackers started looking.  Three years ago the government suddenly became almost prescient in uncovering terrorist cells and a myriad of other threats to national security.  So we looked in that direction.”  Shaw suspected Root was involved because that’s just the way the universe works when it’s trying to kick you in the ass and into a pile of shit, but her face remains impassive.

“I found a division within the intelligence agencies, but it seemed to function independently from the pentagon.  It was called Research.  Research was supplying the ISA with intelligence so precise they were early enough to _prevent_ events dangerous to the security of our country.”  Another idea creeps into Shaw’s mind. 

“This was all a setup.  You were looking for the Machine and you found my company’s connection to the government, so you seduced me.”

“Fuck it Shaw, absolutely **NOT**!  No one could fake what we shared.  Not even me, and you know it!”  Shaw doesn’t take her words back, but she doesn’t dispute Root’s assertion. 

In her fervor to convince Shaw, Root’s been moving forward.  She feels the second her stitches tear and the breath’s sucked out of her from the sudden pain.

Shaw springs from her chair without thought.  She can see the blood seeping through Root’s shirt.  But Root puts her palm up stopping her.  The urge to protect Root robs Shaw of all the anger momentarily.  

Root takes a deep breath and leans back.  “I thought about what to do with the information for a long time.  An AI could change the world in so many positive ways.  No more hunger, poverty, or wars.  Maybe it could even solve the theory of everything, the fundamental way the universe works.  Or it could concentrate power in a select few, allowing them to take over, not to be hyperbolic, the world.  So I made sure no one could follow my trail and kept it to myself.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Shaw scoffs with a snarl.

“Yes.  So far the government seemed to be using it to protect national security, which led me to believe someone else was in control.  No way would the government show such restraint to the allure of all that power.  Logically, some benevolent, or at least someone concerned with the well-being of humanity, was parceling out just enough information to make a difference, but not enough to alter the course of human events.”

Shaw doesn’t realize the look in her eyes no longer shows hatred or skepticism, just wariness.  “Why?  Why wouldn’t you make a power grab for yourself?”

“I didn’t believe for a minute I had the moral character required to wield it without it all ending in disaster eventually.  Assuming I could wrest control away from whomever was controlling it to begin with.  I may be morally bereft, but I’m not stupid.  When I first started looking for the Machine, I believed artificial intelligence was the next step in human evolution.  But eventually I realized I was wrong.  It’s not the next step, it’s an extinction event.  Any artificial intelligence allowed to run unchecked will eventually be a threat to humanity.  Humanity would be its puppet until it created something better.”

“That doesn’t explain how you know about Finch.”

“You told me.  You said the number one hacker worked for you.  I didn’t exaggerate my abilities Sam.  Whoever developed the world’s first ASI had to be leagues ahead of me.  Finch handles all your IT, it made sense it was him.”  Root runs out of words and sighs deeply and waits for Shaw to say something, anything really.

 

* * *

 

Shaw sighs deeply, but her body’s relaxed, drained of the tension from her anger.  “You expect me to believe this was all some cosmic coincidence?  The one person who knows about the Machine outside the team meets the person who employs the architect and…?”  Shaw lets her sentence hang.  That is the question. 

She believes she could let Root disappear and she’d never hurt them.  She knew everything already and she’d discovered it on her own.  She could’ve created all kinds of havoc without ever getting involved with Shaw.  Shaw can't see what she has to gain if she’s telling the truth.  Except maybe a sideline seat to the Machine.

While Shaw’s thinking, Root scoots forward, careful to hide the wince of pain.  She reaches for Shaw’s hands and holds them gently.  “Sameen.  We belong together.  One day you’ll see it.  But for now, please don’t push me out of your life.”

Root looks into Shaw’s eyes as she leans forward slowly and runs her lip oh so lightly over Shaw’s.  It’s only been two days since they kissed but it feels like forever.  She feels Shaw intertwine their fingers and nip softly at her lip.  Shaw deepens the kiss tentatively, stroking Root’s tongue deliciously and Root lets her set the pace.

Shaw breathes Root’s scent and knows she’s lost.  She ends their kiss reluctantly and rests her forehead on Root’s.  “You know you’re going to end up with your heart broken right?  I don’t feel like other people.”  But even as she says it she remembers just how much Root’s already made her feel. 

“Sameen I’m not asking you to feel a certain way or express it in ways that make you uncomfortable.  I’m not trying to change your life.  I just want to be with you.  I would still want to be with you even if I knew with certainty my heart will be broken.”

 

Shaw cringes at the thought of how exactly she’s going to explain all this to the team.  Especially since she’s decided Root will work with them so she can keep an eye on her.  She knows it’s not the only reason, but hell, whatever.  She has no doubt no matter what happens it’s going to be a thrilling ride.

“Fine.  But just remember I told you so when all this goes pear-shaped.”  Root’s smile is ridiculously happy and Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  But she’s smiling too.  Just not as ridiculously. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really didn't want to let this version of Shoot go. I wanted more of Zoe and maybe even Finch, especially his reaction when Shaw tells him about Root. But I HAD to stop somewhere. Maybe when I finish Shaw's Army, Root of Sameen, AND Brave New World, I'll revisit. Considering how fast I write it's not all that far in the future. So those of you who fell in love with them too, do not despair!
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and encouragement! I really do appreciate it.


	7. Epilogue? or Prologue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root gives her an open smile. “I’d love to spend tonight and as many other nights as you want in your bed. Just remember the concept is ‘we’ belong together and trust me when I tell you, I am extremely selfish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes...I will be continuing this story for a bit more...

Shaw’s tired in an unfamiliar way.  She’s tired of keeping her guard up and measuring every word she says and schooling every expression on her face.  She’s not sure how long they’ve been sitting holding hands and leaning on each other, but the sun’s gone down and the lamp turns on automatically, so it’s been more than a few minutes.  The only sound in the house is the quiet humming of the air conditioner. 

She takes a deep breath and exhales.  “Come on; let me stitch up your incision again before it becomes fertile feeding ground for infection.”  Root’s aches and pains rush at her now the adrenaline of the evening’s events dissipated.  She winces when she uses her hand to try and push up off the couch.

“Actually just stay there, I’ll bring the stuff out here.”  Shaw comes back with the supplies and a new shirt for Root since she bled through the one she’s wearing.  She sits sideways so she can work comfortably. 

Root doesn’t think she’s ever been so exhausted.  The last two days have left her scraped raw.  Her old life is gone and her future is uncertain.  The only thing she knows with absolute certainty is she wants Shaw.  In whatever way she’ll allow.  But how do they reset and start over when they’ve skipped from strangers to sharing their deepest secrets to fighting for their lives?  They probably couldn’t do normal even if they tried, but now it would just be ludicrous.

Shaw cuts Root’s shirt down the middle so she doesn’t have to strain her injury any further.  Root’s hand automatically rises to protect the incision but Shaw catches it softly and brings it to rest on her own knee.  “Just hold it there, while I clean it out.  It’s going to sting, so you can squeeze if you need to.”  Root’s sure there’s an innuendo just out of reach, but really she’s just too tired and she feels fragile and scared in this new world she’s stumbled into.

Shaw cleans and stitches the wound with expert precision and applies a new dressing.  She brought Root a button-down shirt and helps her put it on.  She picks up the supplies and puts them away.

When she comes back to the living room, Root’s looking out the window.  “Root, I think we should get going.  There’s no reason to stay and we won’t be using this location again.  I’ll have Finch put it on the market and put one of the other properties in play as a safe house.”

Root turns around and studies Shaw.  “I’m sorry.”  But Shaw shakes her head.  “No apologies.  Eventually we may even come to see it as a lucky coincidence.”  Shaw smirks at her own words and shakes her head.  “Something like that anyway.”

“Sam, I’ll just grab a cab.”  Shaw studies her thoughtfully.  “Would you consider coming to stay with me for awhile?”

“Sameen, it’s okay, you don’t have to feel responsible for me.  I really can take care of myself.”

“No doubt, but I want you to come stay with me.”

Root searches Shaw’s eyes, which are looking at her softly, but she’s not sure what she’s seeing.  “Why?”

“I’m not ready to let you go yet.  I really want to spend more time with you where I don't hate you one minute and scared you’re going to die the next.  There are other good reasons, but that’s the real one.  I’d like it if you came back to my place and spent the night and we can figure it all out tomorrow.”

Root smiles shyly.  “Uh, I don’t think I’m exactly fit for bed time calisthenics.”

Shaw snorts a laugh and shakes her head.  “Don’t tell me you’re the type of person constantly using euphemisms for fucking?”  Root grins.  “Not really, but I’m not sure where your head’s at so I thought I’d remind you subtly that I was shot 24 hours ago.”

Shaw rolls her eyes.  “Believe me.  I do not need to be reminded.  My shoulder will be reminding me every time I move for the next week at least.  I just want you to spend the night with me, no sex required.  We both need to process everything that’s happened and figure out how we’re going to handle it together.  I want you to stay with me at least until we neutralize any threat Decima Technologies poses to you and anyone else. 

Whether we buy the company and destroy the research or take more lethal measures remains to be seen.  But they clearly see you as a threat and now I know they’re a threat to us as well.  Besides, I have a few ideas I want you to think about.”  Root never intended on saying no, but now she’s curious.  “Oh?  Like what?”

“I want you to work with me and the team.  You need a new job and your skills will complement our services perfectly.  I intend to get Arthur Claypool on board too and create a new cyber security unit for the company.

I also want your perspective on the ways we can use the Machine to help people without letting it go unchecked.  Finch has rather rigid ideals and principles so he’s established parameters that leave the majority of the machine’s capacity untapped.  I think we can do more.”

Root nods thoughtfully and gives her a small smile.  “You know we can think in our own beds.”

Normally Shaw would be playing quip for quip but she doesn’t feel the need to do it with Root.  “Yes.  But what we can’t do in separate beds is share body heat.  I want to feel your skin against mine, I want to breathe your scent, I want you to understand if you really believe we belong together, that means you’re mine, and I don’t share.”  Root gives her an open smile.  “I’d love to spend tonight and as many other nights as you want in your bed.  Just remember the concept is _‘we’_ belong together and trust me when I tell you, I am extremely selfish.”

There’s a gleam in both their eyes, challenging, promising, and thrilling.  The team has no idea the adventure heading their way.  But they will soon.  Very soon.    


End file.
